Hallelujah
by yararebird
Summary: It's about perfect peace. Perfect love. Saving souls. Forgiving - yourself, and those who wronged you. It's a trip back to Briarcliff - a different kind of trip. A different kind of Briarcliff. A different kind of Jude, but still the same. Jude/Timothy slow burn. Smut's nuts (wait for it). fanity. Adult everything. Dancing. Cooking. Kicking demon butt. Old friends.
1. Hey Jude

**Hi. Thanks for stopping by. This fic relies heavily on a soundtrack. I've decided to include relevant songs at the beginning of each chapter, so you can follow the bouncing ball (so to speak) if you like. For this little baby intro, you only need one: _Hey Jude_ by Wilson Pickett. I hope you enjoy my first long multi-chapter piece! **

Hey Jude

What day was it? Felt rather like a Sunday. Not that it seemed to matter anymore. Days bled into nights. Nights were quiet. Days were sunny. Birds chirped. Butterflies were in the flowers. Her little cabin was home and perfect. She'd been here now in the woods for...days. Weeks? Maybe months. It could have been years. It didn't matter because it was happiness.

Peace.

She had...memories. Memories of some far-removed former life. A little girl in a blue dress, alive and well as a woman. Kit Walker, smiling and spinning her beneath his arm. Thomas and Julia - those two little comets spiraling toward greatness. Songs and smoke. A smiling young nun. Some man or another. One she'd loved? These things she could call on whenever she wanted, and banish whenever she needed.

Somewhere along the way, she'd learned things:

She could make coffee without touching a kettle.

She could have no birds or all of them - if she wanted.

She could wear anything she liked without having to change.

She could change the curtains, windows, the walls on a whim. (Today knotty pine, but she didn't care for it.)

Blink and think.

This morning there was no cream in the refrigerator. She blinked and...there was a cold glass bottle.

From her porch perch on a stony outcropping, she could see a gulch. Through the autumn leaves, she could see a waterfall in the distance. This seemed to be the only thing she couldn't change here, not that she minded. Not at all. She couldn't think of anything more perfect.

Was she lonely? She didn't know that feeling anymore. Peace overtook all else. And peace made the best damn cup of coffee this side of heaven. Because it certainly felt like heaven to Jude, if not quite what the convent had sold her.

Such a pleasant chill just beginning to bite… She'd left the front door open so she could hear the kitchen radio while she lounged on the porch swing. Wilson Pickett was singing to her.

 _Hey Jude - don't make it bad_

 _Take a sad song and make it better_

 _Remember to let her into your heart_

 _Then you can start to make it better_

Why did it feel like something was going to happen? She hadn't known anticipation in so long. Nervousness? No...it was just sort of a waiting.

 _Hey Jude don't be afraid_

 _You were made to go out and get her_

 _The minute you let her under your skin_

 _Then you begin to make it better_

Whatever the damned feeling was it was making her relaxing day difficult. She sighed, blinked, and puffed up the pillows on the porch swing. That was a little better. A cardinal flitted onto the porch rail, flirting.

 _And anytime you feel the pain_

 _Hey Jude refrain_

 _Don't carry the world upon your shoulders_

 _For well you know that it's a fool_

 _Who plays it cool_

 _By making his world a little colder_

That feeling got closer. She went in to prepare another coffee - not for herself. And sure enough, a soft knock. "Door's open!" She turned to greet her visitor and smiled. "Why am I not surprised to see you?"

Shachath glided across her rustic floor, also smiling. "I don't know, Jude." She took the offered coffee. "Thank you." Sat at the equally rustic table, taking in her surroundings. "Beautiful place you've got here." She removed her black fascinator, tugged off her gloves.

"Thank you." Jude sat. Produced a pack of smokes. Shachath took one of those, too. "I like it."

"You more than like it."

A laugh. "Yes."

"Is that knotty pine?"

Jude made a face. "I'm trying it out. Doesn't seem to be growing on me."

"Huh." Shachath seemed unsurprised.

"So…" Jude was leaning on her elbow, waiting. Watching. Wanting. "What brings ya here? I know it's not a pleasantry. Yar a busy lady."

"We have a job for you."

"We?"

"We."

Jude sighed. "Never expect a straight answer from the angel of death, right?" She spread her hands. "So what is it?"

"There are some souls in peril. We need them directed. They're creating a vacuum, and we can't have that."

Jude shook her head. "A vacuum? I don't understand."

"Haunted spaces, basically." Shachath rolled her eyes. "They're a real nuisance for the living. And for us. Squatters."

"And I'm supposed to go collect souls in peril? Squatters?" Jude lit her cigarette. "No, thank you. I already tried saving souls. It didn't work out too well for me."

Shachath shrugged. "You did a good job saving your own soul. It doesn't come so easily to others."

Jude pursed her lips. She was sorely tempted. Shachath wouldn't be here with empty assignments. But she hesitated. She was a hard sell. "Where?" But she had a feeling. And the answer was 'no.' A hard 'no.'

"We need you at Briarcliff."

Yep. "No."

"Jude, listen -"

"No, you listen. No." She put both palms flat on the table. "I gave enough time to that place. Enough effort. Enough…" And suddenly she couldn't continue because she felt something she hadn't felt in possibly decades. Tears. Her throat tightened. Hot and hard. "I've worked hard - _hard_ \- to erase it from my soul. The hurt of it. The shame of it. The -"

Shachath's hand was surprisingly warm atop her own. "You left some things behind."

"No!" Jude rose. It was too much. The responsibility was not her own. "That wasn't me."

"There was a little nun…"

"No…" But it was a whisper this time and the memories didn't seem to blink away. Sister Mary Eunice crying, smiling, laughing, her arms before they were not her own wrapping Jude's waist in the wake of a Nor'easter and the sweetest soul, the sweetest face, the blondest hair, the lost eyes, the adoration, the fear. Jude thrust herself against the counter. Irrationally, she jabbed a hand against the sink faucet, sent a stream pouring. And that _fucking_ song was still on…

 _Hey Jude, don't let me down_

 _You have found her now go and get her_

 _Remember to let her into your heart_

 _Then you can start to make it better_

And Shachath behind her. Hands on shoulders. Such gentle hands. Such searching hands. "Jude. Go and get her."

"I'm not ready."

"You're more ready than you think." Hands now firm, now demanding turned her. "This is your purpose." And her black eyes suddenly blue. The blue pools of the lagoon below that Jude - on warmer days - shamelessly dove nude into until her breath was an absolute necessity and brought her streaking through the surface like a rocket. "Yes," She whispered. As only Shachath could whisper - as only Shachath could see: into the soul - beyond the soul.

And there was such stillness. Such reckoning. "Jude."

"No…" but the whisper was weaker. The call more plaintive than ever.

"Do you remember what happened that day? In the forest?"

Judy closed her eyes tight and the tears slipped free, sleek memories silver streaks on her cheeks. "Yes." A hiss. A prayer.

There'd been only light. Warm and enveloping as the deep pools Julia's eyes, as Thomas' forgiving arms as they'd laid in the wet moss and the angels, the angels, the angels...and the silence. The sudden, solemn, precious, omniscient silence of all the demons, the hell, the violence, the damage… The first chapter of the peace, pages turning to now.

To here.

To Shachath's hands on her shoulders.

To tears on her face beckoning, promising something greater than peace and the question: the overhwhelming question: was there a greater peace? Could she push the moment to its crisis? Could she defeat what she knew was the impenetrable darkness? "Tell me I'm strong enough."

"You're strong enough."

"Tell me I'll know what ta say."

"You'll know, Jude."

"Tell me I'll know what ta do."

"You already know, Jude."

"There's more than one, isn't there?"

"Yes. I won't lie. And...something else. We're uncertain of it."

A deep breath. "Promise me I can come back here."

"This is your peace. You earned it."

"Tell me I'm a bad bitch."

Shachath hesitated. Only for a millisecond. "You're a bad bitch, Jude."

"Let's do this."


	2. The Bitch is Back

**Soundtrack credits: _The Bitch is Back -_ Elton John; _Chain of Fools -_ Aretha Franklin; _Judy's Turn to Cry -_ Lesley Gore; _Please Mr. Postman -_ The Marvelettes**

The Bitch Is Back

Briarcliff looked exactly as she remembered it. Imposing brick edifice of doom. Jude lingered on its lowest step, fretting. Shachath paused a few steps higher, looking back at her companion. "Judy?"

A heavy sigh. "Are you sure this isn't hell?"

The dark angel smiled. "You aren't doubting yourself, are you?"

"Just my sanity."

"That's not in question." Shachath looked up, gazing at the pristine firmament of Briarcliff. "You'll find it as you left it, I believe."

"How is that possible? With the time that's passed?"

"Does it matter? You're stalling, Jude."

A glare. But Jude seemed to gather her strength. She looked down at herself, white sundress swaying beneath her knees. A tisk. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, Shachath was gone, and her old habit brushed the top of her booted feet. With sure steps she approached the double doors and - with a mere thought - swung them open wide. An echoing bang announced her arrival.

The bitch was back at Briarcliff.

The entryway was indeed just as she remembered. In fact, perhaps even moreso than she remembered. Her last days here, as Betty Drake, were little more than a blur wrapped in a murmur. Her heels clicked against the marble floor. Almost wistfully, her fingers caressed the dark wood of her 'Stairway to Heaven.' There had been a time when she'd truly believed in it…

She was tempted to call out to Mary Eunice. To simply call out in general. To break the stifling, overwhelming silence. But something else kept her quiet: some odd sense of sanctity, as if the souls trapped here deserved at least the peace of quiet if naught else.

She had one foot on the bottom most step when motion caught her eye. Sharply, she turned. Just there. To the left. Someone had moved. Or something. Just a shadow it seemed, but dark. She blinked, checked her vision. There was no one there. Odd. Suddenly the sharp memory of a drunken night, a film, missing patients and that...thing...in the hallway. She shook away the vision. A vision from a bottle.

She looked up to the landing and began her ascent again when -

"Who's there?"

She whirled toward the voice, a flashlight shining from dimness, clicking off in the light. "...Frank?"

The security guard squinted. "Sistah Jude?"

She stepped down, went to him, forehead creased. "Frank, what the hell are you doing here?"

He was close to a smile seeing her. It nearly broke her heart. He shrugged. "Guess I'm like all the other poor bastards stuck in this shithole...Jude. But you...I never expected to see you back here. Not now. Not like this."

"Frank, God rest yar soul." She embraced him. It took an awkward moment, but he embraced her back. "What about Claire, Frank? Yar wife? You could be with her! Frank you've got nothing to atone for here!"

He held her suddenly at arms length. "I don't think it's that simple." Shook his head. "Besides. I can't leave them here."

"Who?"

"You know." He gestured to nothing. "Little Sister. Shelley. The Monsignor."

Jude's head spun suddenly. She held Frank's arm for support. "The Monsignor?"

"Yeah. Poor bastard. He can't handle this shit."

She stepped back. Sat on a step, cradling her forehead for a moment, pushing away the anger, the hurt, the images, and shamefully (sadly) the concern. "Where are they?"

Frank looked up and around loosely. "Meh. You never really know. The Monsignor stays in his office and chambers mostly. Or the chapel. Shelley wanders around kind of -"

"Where is Mary Eunice? Have you seen her today?"

"Nah. Not today. But she avoids me, anyway. Go figure." He regarded her for a moment. "Is that why you're here, Sistah? For Mary Eunice?"

"Apparently, I'm here for all of ya." Jude stood, feeling tired already. "But I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to do with ya."

"What can I do to help, Sistah?"

Jude raised her arms in a helpless, dismissive shrug. "I dunno Frank. I suppose just...tell them I'm here if you see 'em. So it won't be such a surprise."

"Will you be in your office?"

"Not if I can help it." She was already walking away. "Guess I'll be wandering, too, for a while."

"Jude." She paused, looked back at him over her shoulder. His face was half in darkness. "Ya gotta watch out for the shadows."

Now she turned fully toward him, a brow wondering. "The shadows?"

"Scares the hell out of Little Sister. And Shelley." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Me, too, honestly."

"What are they?"

"I don't know." He winced, remembering an encounter. "They're just...shadows. Maybe people once? Maybe patients? They kinda creep up on ya. Get in ya head." A shiver. "We don't usually see 'em during the day, but ya never know. Just run if you see 'em. And call me, 'kay?"

Jude felt a chill herself. "Sure thing, Frank." His keys rung as he walked away.

The common room hadn't changed, other than being cleaner than she remembered. The jukebox was still there. She smirked at it, brushed fingers across it as she passed. It whirred to life.

 _Chain chain chain_

 _Chain of fools_

She bobbed her head as she explored the abandoned room, picturing faces. Kit Walker (her heart warmed). Lana Banana. The Mexican. Margaret. Kevin. Milton. Dolly. Clyde. All ghosts now, she supposed. But gone. Not here. Not trapped. Good for them.

 _For five long years_

 _I thought you were my man_

 _But I found out, I'm just a link in your chain_

There was a pack of cigarettes abandoned on a table beneath this window. Jude lit one, looking through the glass and grating onto the grounds.

 _Oh, you got me where you want me_

 _I ain't nothin' but your fool_

 _Ya treated me mean_

 _Oh you treated me cruel_

Lowly, she sung along to the lyrics, staring out at a misty day. And there, just beyond the tree line - a black streak ducked under a low limb, making its way toward the kitchen entrances. She squinted, remembering Frank's words, but a flash of white reassured her this was no shadow. Her hand slapped against the window. Cold hope. "Mary Eunice!" Knowing the nun couldn't hear her, she turned to make for the kitchens, but drew up short and with a sharp shriek as she nearly slammed into "Shelley!"

"Yeah. Shelley."

 _Chain chain chain_

 _Chain of fools_

The blonde patient was exactly as Jude remembered her, as well. Head half shaved, gown askew. And she looked particularly...pissed off. Jude had to step back as Shelley stepped forward, a rough poke to the shoulder. "And just where the fuck have you been, Sister Holier than Thou? Huh? Where've you been while we've been rotting in this hell?!"

Jude grabbed the hand that was about to poke her again. "Shelley, stop."

 _Every chain has got a weak link_

 _I might be weak child, but I'll give you strength_

 _Oh, babe_

"Or what? Huh?" Another step forward and Jude was backed against the window. "You'll lock me solitary?" Shelley scoffed. "Shave something else? Or my favorite: how about a nice firm caning for old time's sake, Judy? Show me what you got."

 _You told me to leave you alone_

"I'm here to help you, Shelley." Jude raised a hand between them. "Listen ta me -"

 _My father said come on home_

Shelley slapped the hand away. Jude was surprised the blow stung. "You have no right to walk in here like some fucking merciful savior. You of all people. The most hypocritical -"

"Take it easy, Shelley," Jude felt her own ire firing.

 _My doctor said 'Take it easy'_

"Take _this_ easy, bride of Lies!" And Shelley landed a solid blow. Jude saw it coming, but could only turn her head. Her wimple and hair absorbed most of the blow. The black fabric knocked loose, obscuring her vision. She tossed it aside with malice.

 _Oh but your lovin is just too strong_

She never would have imagined such strength in herself. Both hands pressed hard to Shelley's sternum, sent the woman toppling over a table, awkwardly sprawled over a chair. "I told ya to take it easy, Shelley." She stood over the ex-patient, catching breath, shaking with anger and...something else.

 _I'm added to your chain chain chain_

But Shelley did _not_ take it easy. Instead, she blew hair from her eyes, smirked murder, and flung herself into Jude's legs with a wail. Jude felt it best to simply go with the fall. She imagined leaping into the lagoon near her cabin, and when they slammed into the jukebox, she almost heard a splash… And the music switched with a loud skip.

 _Cause now it's Judy's turn to cry_

 _Judy's turn to cry_

 _Judy's turn to cry_

 _Cause Johnny's come back_

 _To me!_

She managed to grab hold of Shelley's hair, wrenched her head back. "Shelley, I don't wanna beat yar ass today. But I will, I swear ta god." She tasted a little blood in her mouth.

Shelley was swatting backward, trying to dislodge the nun, grunting. "One more fucking person beating my ass in this place isn't a surprise, bitch!" She managed to get hold of Jude's hair, fisting and twisting the curls until Jude screamed at the pain. "You have no idea what I went through in this hell hole and I'm still here rotting for Frank to tell me YOU'VE shown up to save me?! What a fucking JOKE!" And she flipped the taller woman with ease.

 _Awww when Judy left with Johnny at my party_

 _And came back wearing his ring_

 _I sat down and cried my eyes out_

 _Now that was a foolish thing_

But Jude still had a hair grip of her own, and Shelley wailed as she was pulled to the ground as well. Head on the floor, she sobbed while Jude tried to catch her breath. Neither woman willing to release their grips, Jude simply let her wrist twist a shank as she rose to her knees. "You fucking psycho," she muttered. Spat a little blood. Controlled the tears in her own eyes, head still held close to Shelley's. "You think I wanted to come back here for yar sorry ass? I had _perfect peace_! Perfect peace that I walked away from -"

"Like you walked away from us!" Shelley pushed up, too, arm shaking bracing herself, face so close it nearly touched Jude's. "You shoulda kept your perfect peace, Judy. Cuz we're beyond it, and you're wasting your fucking time!"

 _Well it hurt me so to see them dance together_

 _I felt like making a scene_

 _Then my tears just fell like rain drops_

 _Cause Judy's smile was so mean_

"You're not beyond anything, you stupid little slut! So you're either gonna help me help you, or I'm gonna kill your dead ass again right here and now!"

"Try it!" Shelley suddenly released Jude's hair, scrampled away out of Jude's clutch and up to shaky feet. "Do me a fucking favor! After what you sent that monster Arden to do to me! And your pocket priest and your little penguin minion?!"

 _Cause now it's Judy's turn to cry_

 _Judy's turn to cry_

 _Judy's turn to cry_

 _Cause Johnny's come back_

 _To me!_

"Goddammit Shelley I don't know what Arden did to you! Or - or Monsignor Howard!" She rose, too, feeling bruises starting to form. "But you don't know what they did to me, either. And I assure you we're on even ground there."

They breathed heavily, facing off. "I don't believe you." Shelley panted. "How can you not know? Every decision in this hell box was yours."

"Not true!" Jude shouted. Her fists clenched in anger and she staggered toward the patient, Shelley standing her ground. "I ended up in this hell box just like you, Shelley."

 _Oh one night I saw them kissing at a party_

 _So i kissed some other guy_

 _Johnny jumped up and he hit him_

 _Cause he still loves me that's why_

Shelley shook her head. "No way."

"Talk ta me." Jude said, raising her hands.

 _So now it's Judy's turn to cry_

 _Judy's turn to cry_

 _Judy's turn to cry_

 _Cause Johnny's come back_

 _To me!_

Shelley struggled. She looked to the door, looked back to Jude. But her hands relaxed at her side. "I don't trust you."

Jude laughed ironically. "I'll just have to make you trust me, then. Earn it. Right?"

"Why?"

Fight out of her, Jude fell exhausted on a nearby couch. She gestured to the table near Shelley. "Pass those smokes, will ya?" Shelley didn't move. "Oh, come on. Smoke with a nun. Live a little, Shelley." She patted the stained cushion beside herself. "It'll be fun _and_ enlightening. I promise. If you don't like what I have ta say, we can resume our rousing bout of fisticuffs, and I'll defenistrate a nymphomaniac."

Shelley was slowly approaching, still cautious. "What does defenistrate mean?"

"Sit down, or I'll show you."

Shelley seemed to find wisdom in those words and sat. As far from Jude on the couch as possible. Jude tossed the cigarettes at her. "Ow!" She caught the box against her chest.

"Now." Jude offered a light. Shelley hesitated before leaning forward and accepting, eyes never leaving Jude's. "Tell me what Arden did to ya."

"That fucking lunatic cut my legs off! Injected me with something! Then your pet nun put me out in the woods to die like a dog. I crawled off somehow, hoping someone would just...help me." She flicked ashes onto the floor. A grunt. "No such luck. I ended up back here. Freak that I was."

Jude listened, not with surprise. "I'm sorry, Shelley."

Shelley's lip curled. "Doubtful. Know what your boyfriend did?"

Jude's jaw clenched. "The Monsignor was far from my boyfriend."

"Oh come on. Everybody knew you worshiped the ground he walked on. Practically licked his boots like you were in heat."

"What did he do?" Jude's eyes narrowed. She ignored Shelley's insults. Not important. What was important was that she detected no falsehood.

"He murdered me," Shelley whispered. "Wrapped his fucking rosary around my neck and -" She made a sudden strangling sound.

Jude cringed. Her eyes stung and she looked away. "I'm sorry for that, too."

"So now I get to wander these hallowed halls for all eternity, I guess." Another flick. Jude was quiet, so she continued. "Every now and then, I see him. Staring at me from some doorway like a the guilty son of a bitch he is. If I try to confront him, he runs scared. A cowardly dog." She regarded Jude boldly. "Still wanna be his bird?"

Jude's eyes flicked up, registering shock for a second. But she shook her head. "My _purely professional_ relationship with Monsignor Howard ended...abruptly, shall we say." Flick. "In a way, he murdered me, too, Shelley."

"In a way…"

Jude leaned forward. "After Arden and the...demon living in Mary Eunice fried my brains, yar favorite priest locked me away in the holiest of holes here. Took away my name. My dignity. My _faith._ Everything."

"You died here, too?"

"No." Jude stomped her cigarette. "I was saved. Redeemed. I guess that's why I'm the one who gets to be here now." She gestured grandly. "Ta-da! Yar rescue party!"

Shelley blinked a few times, waiting. "So...what do you do? To get me out?"

Jude's arms fell. "I don't rightly know yet."

"Pffft." Shelley tossed her cigarette butt over her shoulder. "Some fucking rescue party."

Jude scowled. Thought a moment. "Ya have yar legs back, I see."

Shelley looked down at them. "Yeah. I guess that's one good thing."

"Want yar hair back?"

Suspicion. "Yeah?"

Jude leaned forward again. "Picture it in yar head. Howevah you want it. Good?" A nod. "Close yar eyes. Make it happen." She watched Shelley's eyes clench closed tightly. Waited. "Ok. You can open them now. There's no timer."

Shelley opened her eyes. Reached up to find a full head of sleek, shoulder length blonde hair. Her expression was mystified. "Did you do that?"

"You did that." Jude pointed. "Why don't ya change out of that disgusting gown?" Shelley clenched her eyes again and Jude chuckled. "Don't strain yourself. It's not a bowel movement."

Shelley looked down to find herself in a long, swirl skirt. A bohemian peasant blouse. Strings of glass and wooden beads.

"Nice."

"Holy shit," Shelley breathed slowly.

"Nah, I don't see a rosary in there," Jude commented.

Shelley stared at her, gaping. "Did you just...make a joke?"

Jude shrugged. "I got jokes."

"What else can I do?" Shelley asked excitedly. "Can I just...close my eyes and be in Paris?"

"No." Jude shook her head. "That's the part we have to work on." She rubbed at the side of head where Shelley had wrenched her hair. "If Paris is yar peace, Shelley. I'm sure we can get ya there. We just have to...work on it. Figure it out together."

"What about food?"

"What about it?"

"Like...if I just want a big plate of cheese and crackers."

"Sounds delicious."

Shelley blinked more easily this time. Cheese and crackers were on the coffee table. "Amazing." She moved the plate between them. "Want some?"

They shared cheese and crackers. Quietly chewing for a moment. Jude blinked. Reached behind her and extracted a pint of bourbon. "Hm?" She offered the bottle to Shelley. They shared that, too, sipping right from the bottle. "And how about some music?" Jude asked. "Too quiet in here."

Shelley considered for a moment. Blinked. The Marvelettes:

 _Wait!_

 _Oh yeah wait a minute Mr. Postman_

Jude grinned. "I love this song!" She gave an appreciative clap and stood, swaying a little. Shelley watched her, alternately amazed and amused. Jude looked down at herself. Blinked. "Much better."

Shelley whistled at the purple swing dress and heels. "Watch out there, sister!"

 _(Is there a letter in your bag for me) Please, Please Mister Postman_

 _(Why's it been a very long time) Oh yeah_

 _(Since I heard from this boyfriend of mine)_

Jude gestured to Shelley. "C'mere."

"Unbefuckinglievable," Shelley muttered. But she rose, more than happy to dance with this new and improved Sister Jude. They were a little awkward at first, the two women bent on destroying each other only moments earlier. But it _was_ a great song, and soon they sang together, falling into step beside each other.

 _There must be some word today_

 _From my boyfriend so far away_

 _Please Mister Postman, look and see_

 _Is there a letter, a letter for me_

Shelley kicked the volume up a notch, eased a little closer to Jude and bumped her hip. "I'm not into chicks or anything, Sister. But...You could smoke a ham with that body."

Jude laughed. "Yar not so bad yourself, Shelley. Now that ya got a full head of hair, at least."

"Hey!" But Shelley was smiling.

 _I've been standin' here waitin' Mister Postman_

 _So patiently, for just a card, or just a letter_

 _Sayin' he's returnin' home to me_

 _Please Mister Postman (Mister Postman, look and see) Oh yeah_

"Hey!" The women turned from their dance to see Frank standing in the door. "What the hell is going on in here?!" He squinted. "Shelley?"

The music stopped abruptly. "Hi, Frank."

"What the hell are you wearing?" He was approaching them. "And who the hell is -" He froze a few feet away. "Sistah Jude?"

"Hi, Frank."

A sharp exhale and Frank removed his cap, scratching his head. "Aye, aye, aye…" He replaced his cap. "I can hear that music box all the way in the kitchens. Keep it down." Jude was fighting a smile, but Shelley looked at her feet. "And...Shelley, ya oughta be in your gown."

"But!" Shelley looked up now, ready to defend. "Judy taught me this!"

"Taught you what?"

Jude stepped forward. "Frank."

"Sistah…" He struggled a moment. "Where's ya...where's ya habit?"

"I broke the habit," she replied quickly. "Sit down, Frank. I think things will be secure long enough for us to...chat." She turned to their couch. "And we've got cheese and crackers and...well, there's a little bourbon left."

Frank was staring at the seams up the backs of her stockings. "Bourbon is contraband," he murmured.

"So are those legs," Shelley hissed in his ear.

Jude resumed her place on the couch. "Frank. Some rules are going to change around here."

"Oh?" He finally sat, looking only slightly uncomfortable.

Shelley perched on the arm of the couch behind Jude. She produced another pack of cigarettes, lit two at once and passed one to Jude. Jude propped her feet on the coffee table. "Thanks, Shelley."

Frank chewed a cracker. Took a swig of bourbon. Looked at Jude and shrugged gamely. "Welcome back, boss."


	3. Try a Little Tenderness

**Your playlist for this chapter: _Someone to Watch Over Me -_ Rosemary Clooney; _Twistin' the Night Away -_ Sam Cooke; _Try a Little Tenderness -_ Otis Redding; _Come On-A My House -_ Rosemary Clooney; Red _River Valley -_ Jo Stafford; _Let Me Take You There -_ The Staple Singers.**

Try a Little Tenderness

"So let me get this straight." Frank leaned forward on the little couch. He was really processing. "I can just...think up whatevah I want, and...have it."

"In a nutshell," Jude assured, leaning forward beside him.

"Like, says I want a brighter flashlight. I can just -"

"A brighter flashlight?" Jude interrupted. "I'm sitting here saying 'anything you want, Frank,' and all ya can think of is a brighter flashlight?"

Shelley giggled from her dancefloor, softly swaying to the low strains of old soul.

 _There's a saying old, says that love is blind_

 _Still we're often told, seek and ye shall find_

 _So I'm going to see a certain lad I've had in mind_

Frank looked abashed. Maybe a little hurt. Jude shook her head. "Alright, Frank. Nevamind. Ya know what? Brighter flashlight it is." She rubbed his shoulder. "Close yer eyes, and think of a flashlight bright as the sun. Or a collapsed star."

"Kay." He closed his eyes, lips pursing thoughtfully.

"Ya ready?"

"Yeah, yeah. Ready."

"Alright then. Open yar eyes."

Frank opened his eyes. Looked around. "I don't see it."

Jude rubbed her forehead. "Take out yar flashlight, Frank."

 _Looking everywhere, haven't found him yet_

 _He's the big affair I cannot forget_

 _Only man I ever think of with regret_

He reached for his flashlight, flicked it on.

"Ahh, Christ, Frank!" Jude threw her arms across her eyes, shielding them against a sudden blinding flash of atomic flare.

"Shit!" Shelley curled away as well. "Shut that fucker off, fucker!" She shouted.

"Sorry! Sorry." Frank scrambled to shut off the penetrating death ray. "Wow." He breathed. "That worked."

"Great. Now I'm blind." Shelley huffed.

Jude snickered. "So. Now you see?"

 _I'd like to add his initial to my monogram_

 _Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?_

"I see." Frank nodded. "In fact, I'll see much better now."

"Glad somebody does," Shelley muttered, coming to stand before the two of them. "Why don't ya try something that won't cause radiation burns?"

 _There's a somebody I'm longin' to see_

 _I hope that he turns out to be_

 _Someone who'll watch over me_

"Huh." Frank considered. "How about…" He blinked softly this time. The jukebox clicked.

 _Let me tell you bout a place_

 _Somewhere up New York Way_

 _Where the people are so gay_

 _Twistin the night away_

"Whoooo! Yes, Frank! Much better!" Jude rose, hands out to the security guard. "Come on and dance with me!"

"Nah, nah, Sister. I'm - I'm pants at dancing." He blushed. But Jude was already pulling him to his feet, Shelley encouraging with a watussi in the background.

 _Here's a man in evenin clothes_

 _How he got here I dunno_

 _But man you oughta see him go_

 _Twistin the night away!_

Joy was such an infectious disease. It spread from one soul to another, and soon Frank was easily swinging Jude out, back in. Laughing at his own ease. Shelley slipped up beside them, shaking her new hair happily. "Can I cut in?" She bumped Jude's hip suggestively.

"Fine, Shelley." Jude winked. But it wasn't Frank who took Shelley's hand. Jude grabbed it suddenly, smoothly twirling Shelley beneath her arm. Game, Shelley laughed and fell in step.

 _Here's a fella in blue jeans_

 _Dancing with an older queen_

 _Who's dolled up in her diamond rings_

 _Twistin the night away!_

Frank set up a snap, watching the two women with a nostalgic smile. Suddenly, there was a martini glass in his hand, and a cigar in his mouth. Jude's new trick was certainly gonna improve the quality of life in this dismal place, he thought.

 _They're twistin, twistin, everybody's doing great_

 _They're twistin, man, twistin_

 _Twistin the night away!_

Jude swung Shelley over to Frank. "Yar turn," she laughed. "This one's a handful. Here! I'll help ya out." Swiftly, she snatched his cigar and his martini. "I'll just hold onta these for ya!"

"Hey!" But Shelley had already pulled him into a spirited dance.

Judy downed the martini - a filthy one, chewing the tangy olive. She'd just taken a conservative puff off Frank's Cubano when she caught movement in the common room door. "Mary Eunice," she whispered. The martini glass fell from her hand, shattering. She watched the little nun duck her head, turning from the window.

"Judy?" The dancers had frozen, turned to see Jude back in full habit, rushing to the doors.

"Wait here!" She called to them. "Just...Keep dancin'!"

The doors swung closed behind her and she could hear the patter of feet down the hall, toward the kitchens. "Sister!" She called. "Mary Eunice, stop!" She gave chase.

The kitchens were quiet. Jude slid into the doorway, pausing on the top step. She could hear water dripping in the large sink. "Mary Eunice," she called again, softly. "It's Sister Jude. Please, come out. Come talk to me."

A clang snapped her attention to a rack of pans by the stove. "Eunice?" Peeking around the shelves, her heart melted. "Oh, little sistah…" She fell to her knees by the curled nun shivering on the floor. "C'mere."

"No!" Eunice sobbed. Shoved Jude's reaching arm away. Jude wouldn't be rejected, insistently grabbing Mary around her waist, awkwardly pulling.

"Goddamit, Eunice! I said c'mere!" It was like wrestling with a greased up monkey. "I already had one fight today. I'm not gonna do this with you. Ah!" Her balance completely unsettled when Eunice clutched her of a sudden, tight, like a child would. "Oh, baby…" Jude soothed. The girl trembled like a quarter horse pony. Head kisses. "Hush, Eunice."

"Are you real?"

"Course I'm real. Yar holding me aren't ya?" She could feel Eunice's tears soaking her chest.

"Why are you back here?"

"I'm here for you, little sister. For all of ya."

"Are you here to forgive me?" Eunice's eyes finally met her own. Red and tortured. Dark circles marred the girl's once porcelain beauty. Jude's breath caught for just a moment, tears threatening to join Mary Eunice's.

"Eunice…There's nothing to forgive."

"But you must!" Eunice stood, knocking over more pans. She startled at the noise echoing. "What I did to you...to all of them!" Fresh sobs and she was crumbling again. Jude grabbed her before she could think of fleeing, leaned against the counter behind them, jolting the little stereo there into action.

 _Oh she may be weary_

 _Young girls they do get weary_

 _Wearing that same old shabby dress_

 _But when she gets weary_

 _Try a little tenderness_

Jude took a deep breath, pleased to see Mary Eunice follow suit. Felt the girl relaxing against her. "There now," Jude whispered. Stroked Eunice's back. "I'm gonna explain everything, Eunice, I promise." Unconsciously, they were slowly, barely swaying on their feet, still embracing. Just...holding onto each other.

 _I know she's waiting_

 _Just anticipating_

 _The thing you'll never never possess_

 _But while she's there waiting_

 _Try a little tenderness_

"I can - I can still see you." Eunice breathed into her shoulder, voice thick with controlled tears. "I delivered you to that devil. Leigh Emerson. I knew that night! I knew what he would do! I could even hear inside your office... And oh, God, Sister Jude you on that bed. That - that- that thing on your head. I can still hear you reaching out to me - to _me_ , sister! - deep inside my head. And then...and then...the dial and it - it - it _made me, sister!_ " She clawed Jude's shoulders, desperately grasping. "It made me put that thing in your mouth and then...I - I - I couldn't." Her face was so pained, so broken. Jude stroked the wet cheeks, forgiveness bleeding from her fingers. "I couldn't stop it, Sister Jude. God, I tried so hard to fight and I could _feel you burning!_ I still hear you screaming…"

 _Now it might be_

 _A little sentimental no no_

 _But she has her greaves and care_

 _But the soft words_

 _They are spoke so gentle_

 _Makes it easier - easier to bear_

"Little sister." Jude held her face, her head steady, made Mary Eunice meet her eyes. "Feel me now. Feel how much I - " Her own tears escaped despite her. "I love you, Eunice. I loved you then, and I love you now, and I'm back for you because that _wasn't you, Eunice!_ "

"Oh, Sister Jude! I'm so sorry!" Eunice wailed, shaking Jude's grip fee to hug her again. Breathless the two of them from the emotion, the tightness of their arms around each other.

"The screaming stopped, Eunice. It stops now forevah, ya hear me? I'm here to teach ya how to let it go. How ta forgive yourself."

"I killed Frank." Eunice hiccupped suddenly. "I - I tried to kill Shelley. It was so cold out there and I - I dumped her like garbage...They hate me so! They'll never forgive me. Not like you!"

"They didn't understand, Mary Eunice. But they will. Hear me? We're gonna make 'em understand."

"I can't!" Eunice frantically shook her head. "I can't tell them! And -" She pulled back, eyes wide with terror. "And the Monsignor. How he must hate me. What I did to him...Oh, Sister Jude, you'll detest me so -"

"I know, Mary Eunice." Jude took hold of her chin. "I know what ya did to the Monsignor. And he knows it wasn't you, angel. And I know it wasn't you. Eunice - you have to let go of what wasn't ever yars."

"I should have fought harder."

"Ya fought like the archangel himself, Mary Eunice. I know ya did. Cuz you were always stronger than me."

 _Them young girls they don't forget it_

 _Love is their whole happiness_

 _But it's all so easy_

 _All you got to do is try_

 _Try a little tenderness_

"Stronger in your faith. Stronger in your goodness." Jude continued. Was she reaching the child? There was something in her eyes approaching what? Understanding? Forgiveness? "You were stronger in every Godly conviction than I ever was, Eunice. And that's why I needed ya so bad. Why I need ya now. Yeah?" She pulled Mary into a shaft of light from the grated window over the sink. "I need yar help now. Again. My partner in salvation. Can ya do that far me, Eunice? Will ya help me again?"

"I can't. I don't even deserve your -"

"Everything all right in here?" Frank appeared in the doorway, Shelley peering over his shoulder into the room.

And like a frightened bird, Eunice flew. Slipping oil-like from Jude's grip and skittering through the door to the grounds. "Dammit!" Jude slapped the sink, pointed at Frank and Shelley. "I told ya ta wait!"

"I'm sorry, Jude." Frank raised his hands. "I heard bangin' around."

Jude chewed at her lip. Wiped tears away from her face. "It's fine," she sighed. "Baby steps, I guess."

"You alright, Judy?" Shelley asked meekly, peeking around Frank's shoulder.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." Made a decision. "Come here, Shelley." She opened the refrigerator, extracting everything she needed. "Here. Cut these veggies."

"Me?" Shelley pointed at herself, then the veggies, then the knife.

"Yeah, you. You want soup or not?" Jude asked Frank, too.

The guard and the nympho regarded each other sheepishly. "Like...homemade soup?" Frank asked.

"I don't see any elves around here flying in on a beam of moonlight to do it." Another knife appeared. "Help Shelley dice."

"Yes, ma'am."

Jude blinked and the radio serenaded their venture with Rosemary Clooney.

 _Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you candy_

 _Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give a you_

 _Apple a plum and apricot-a too eh_

"Hold on a second." Shelley paused in her clumsy dicing. "If we want soup, why don't we just blink some damn soup? Why we gotta...cook?" Frank had no comment, but did give Shelley a look of sympathetic agreement. He was having trouble with an onion.

"I enjoy cooking." Jude answered simply. She was brutally crushing tomatoes in a large copper soup pot. "It helps me think. It'll help you, too. Trust me. Thinking is something you need to do more of, Shelley." Shelley gasped offense. "Christ it's hot in here." Jude blinked and her white sundress was back. "Bettah."

 _Come on-a my house, my house a come on_

 _Come on-a my house, my house a come on_

 _Come on-a my house, my house I'm gonna give a you_

 _Figs and dates and grapes and cakes eh_

Soon her tomatoes were simmering away. Jude added chicken broth and pieces. "Bring over those veggies, kitchen slaves."

"I was starting to like you." Shelley groused as she dumped her load of carrots and celery into the pot.

"I wouldn't think that looking at those raggedy carrots." Jude poked her ass.

"Ow! Damn bony fingered bitch!" But there was humor in her tone and a sparkle in her eyes.

"Better than a caning."

"True."

 _Come on-a my house, my house a come on_

 _Come on-a my house, my house a come on_

 _Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you candy_

 _Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you everything_

Frank shamefully delivered his onions, avoiding Jude's judging eyes. "Sorry they're uh…"

"Mangled?" Jude peered in at the onions. "Practice makes perfect, Frank."

 _Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you Christmas tree_

 _Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you_

 _Marriage ring and a pomegranate too ah_

Shelley moved to a corner of the kitchen standing for a moment, eyes closed. A bistro style table appeared, embroidered table cloth and a little vase of flowers very welcoming. Jude softened. "Thanks, Shelley."

Shelley shrugged. "Just thought it'd be nice to not eat on a shit-stained mattress for a change."

 _Come on-a my house, my house a come on_

 _Come on-a my house, my house a come on_

 _Come on-a my house, my house I'm gonna give a you_

 _Peach and pear and I love your hair ah_

"Do you...do you still sleep in yar cell, Shelley?" Jude sat on the counter beside the stove, stirring absently.

"Course I do." But Shelley was now lounging at the table, blew a few smoke rings at Frank who waved them away with a teasing threat.

"Well, now you know you can stop that." Jude said. "Sleep wherever you want. You can make yar own bed. Nice and comfy. There's no need to be a patient here anymore, Shelley."

"That's fair." Shelley nodded, appreciative. Her eyes catted. "What if I wanna sleep with you, Sister?"

Frank had produced himself a cold beer and nearly choked on it. Jude raised a brow gamely. "Just sleep, Shelley?"

"Well…"

Jude slid off the counter, dress hiking to reveal a little extra leg. Sauntered over to Shelley and took her cigarette. "You couldn't even begin to handle me, little girl."

Shelley chuckled. "You're probly right, Judy." She took another cigarette for herself. "But it'd be hell of fun to try."

Frank cleared his throat.

 _Come on-a my house, my house a come on_

 _Come on-a my house, my house a come on_

 _Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you Easter egg_

 _Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you_

 _Everything, everything, everything_

Jude sat to the table and kicked out the third chair for Frank. "What about you, fearless security. Where are you sleeping?"

"I don't think I am," Frank shook his head. "I'm the only guard here now, and those damn things…"

"Tell me about them." Jude was interested.

"Those fucking scary crispy critters?" Shelley shivered. "Fuck them."

"Crispy critters?"

"Shelley hit one once in hydrotherapy. Said it felt...burnt somehow," Frank supplied. "They kinda...get in yer head. Lots of jumbly voices."

"What are they saying?"

"Can't tell." Frank shrugged. "It's like gibberish. Or some other language. But ya can't make out words, anyway."

"They make you feel...weak." Shelley said. "Like they're trying to take something from you."

"Take what?"

"I dunno." She shook her head. "I don't stick around long enough to find out. Just run like hell. They never chase you." _Red River Valley_ came on the radio, and the three unlikely compatriots sat at the table together, each in their own thoughts for the moment.

 _From this valley they say you are going_

 _We will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile_

 _For they say you are taking the sunshine_

 _That has brightened our path for a while_

Jude was concerned about these shadows. Exactly what they were. What they wanted. Briarcliff's most damned souls? Demons? She didn't care for the threat. Wondered if she had seen one when she first arrived. And she wondered… "How often do you uh...see the Monsignor?" She avoided Shelley's eyes.

 _Come and sit by my side if you love me_

 _Do not hasten to bid me adieu_

 _But remember the Red River Valley_

 _And the cowboy who loved you so true_

Frank shrugged. "Every now and then I see him in the chapel, praying. Or in his office. He seems pretty out of it. We don't bother him none."

"I only ever glimpse him," Shelley offered. "And that's probably a good thing. Because it'd be a lot worse meeting than our meeting earlier, I guarantee you that, Judy."

"It's Sister Jude, Shelley," Frank corrected firmly.

"No." Jude touched his arm. "No, not anymore. For both of you. I haven't been Sister Jude in a long time."

"Hah!" Shelley punched Frank's arm. "Told ya! Nuns don't look like that!" She gestured at Jude. "But nooo, you said she was just dressing and acting like that to 'reach me'. Sucker!"

 _Won't you think of the valley you're leaving_

 _Oh how lonely, how sad it will be?_

 _Oh think of the fond heart you're breaking_

 _And the grief you are causing to me_

"Don't gloat, Shelley." Jude reprimanded. "It's unbecoming. Frank, you gonna share those beers or what?" Two beers appeared on the table. "Thanks." Jude took a drink. "I wanna ask you both somethin'. About Mary Eunice."

"What about her?" Shelley asked.

"Do ya hate her? Resent her? For what she did to ya? Especially you, Frank."

They looked at each other. "I don't hate her," Shelley murmured. "I always thought she was just doing what you told her to, ya know?"

"I just didn't understand," Frank said. "It happened so fast, and it was the little sister. I never saw it coming. Didn't expect it. I just don't understand…"

 _As you go to your home by the ocean_

 _May you never forget those sweet hours_

 _That we spent in the Red River Valley_

 _And the love we exchanged mid the flowers_

"I wanna help ya understand," Jude leveled. "Mary Eunice...she wasn't herself. There was...a demon inside her. A presence. Evil. The devil. Whatevah you wanna call it."

"Come again?" Frank nudged.

Jude sighed. "A farm boy came into Briarcliff. His parents claimed he was...violent. Not himself. We examined him, and determined he was possessed." A long drag. "The Monsignor brought in another priest. They performed an exorcism, and the demon left the boy. But...it went into Mary Eunice."

"A demon? Really?" Shelley asked. "Come on, now. That stuff doesn't really happen."

"It knew things," Jude insisted. "About me. Showed me things no one else would know. And then Mary Eunice knew those things, too. Used them to destroy me, basically. Because I was too blind to see the truth. Too distracted to recognize she wasn't right. Too twisted up. She manipulated and obfuscated every situation...tricked us all."

"So...it was a demon who dumped me in the woods?" Shelley asked.

"Exactly."

"A demon who cut my throat open." Frank reiterated.

"Yep." They grew quiet, considering. "They set it up to make it like I killed ya, Frank. The demon and Arden and the Monsignor." Jude shook her head. "Fucking assholes…that's how I ended up in here."

"Awww, Jude, you'd nevah!" Frank exclaimed. "I hate they did that to ya. We was friends, you and me."

Jude took his hand. "I wish you'd been there to defend me," she said. "I missed ya terribly, Frank."

"I'm gonna vomit," Shelley groaned. "You two are just the most."

"Go stir the soup, Shelley."

"Fine." Shelley rose. "Better than watching you two make out. Fucking two bosses now…" She muttered on her way to the stove.

Jude sobered. "Frank, seriously. Could ya find it in yar heart to forgive, Eunice? She...she needs yar forgiveness. Both of ya."

Frank nodded slowly. "I can forgive the little sister. Musta been hard, sweet girl like that with something so evil inside her."

"Exactly!" Jude said again. "Shelley?"

Shelley was stirring the soup. "I guess if I can forgive you for just generally being a raging cunt, I can forgive your raging cunt protege." She shrugged. "Can't hold demonic possession against somebody forever."

"Yar a veritable fountain of forgiveness, Shelley."

"I know."

"So when do we talk to her?" Frank asked. "The little sister? She runs like that every time I come near her."

"Just give me a little time," Jude said. "I'm workin' on her."

Shelley brought bowls and a tray of bread. "Soup's ready."

"Already?" Jude asked.

Shelley shrugged. "I cheated. I'm hungry."

"Not one for patience, are ya?"

"Nope." But Shelley kindly served them soup before sitting. "Good beer, Frank."

"Thanks." Frank chewed. "Good soup."

It was good soup. Reminded Jude of her little cabin in the woods. She blinked for some dinner music, and they ate in happy haze for the moment.

 _Oh, mmm..I know a place_

 _Ain't nobody cryin', ain't nobody worried_

 _Ain't no smilin' faces_

 _Lyin' to the races_

 _Help me, come on, come on_

 _Somebody help me now_

 _(I'll take you there)_

 _Help me, y'all_

 _(I'll take you there)_

 _Help me now_

 _(I'll take you there)_

 _Oh!_

 _(I'll take you there)_

 _Oh, oh! mercy_

 _(I'll take you there)_

 _Oh, let me take you there!_


	4. Silver Springs

**Chapter Playlist: _You Don't Have to Say You Love Me -_ Dusty Springfield; _Silver Springs -_ Fleetwood Mac. (License is taken with musical time frames in this story because - let's face it - we don't really know how much time has past. I suspect a lot.)**

Silver Springs

She left Frank and Shelley playing cards. She'd been sorely tempted to join them - despite Shelley's strong encouraging toward strip poker - but she had a delivery to make. Climbed the steps to the third floor, to personal chambers, a tray in hand. Mary Eunice's light bled from beneath her door at the end of the hall.

She passed the Monsignor's chambers on the way. His light was on as well. She tiptoed past. Knocked softly on Eunice's door. "Little Sister. It's me. I brought ya some dinner."

The door opened just a crack, and seeing that Jude was alone, Eunice let her in. "I'm sorry I ran earlier, Sister."

"It's fine." Jude set the tray on Eunice's desk. "I brought ya some soup. Shelley and Frank… helped me cook." She shook her head. "Like a mental patient and a bachelor. But...it's hard to keep good help these days."

Eunice lifted the lid on the soup tureen as if it was a holy relic. "Thank you, Sister. I - I can't remember the last time I ate something."

"Ya don't really have to anymore." Jude explained. She meandered to Eunice's modest bed and sat, leaving the chair for Eunice. "But I find I still enjoy food. It's comforting. Fills the soul, I guess."

Eunice tasted the soup with a shaking hand, tightly clutching the napkin in her lap. "Mmmmmm." Her eyes drifted shut. "Oh, Sister Jude...that feels so good."

Jude smiled. "Good. Eat. Does ya a world of good. And Eunice...I'm not Sister Jude, anymore." She gestured to the simple sundress and cotton flats she still wore. "As you can see. I'm Judy now. Or just Jude."

Eunice drank milk, wiped away the little moustache it left behind. "I don't know if I can ever call you that."

A shrug. "I don't suppose it matters. Call me whatevah ya like."

"I liked calling you Sister. Because...I'd never had a sister. And, I think you always treated me like one." She stirred soup thoughtfully. "Your little sister." She looked up. "Did you really love me?"

Jude felt a warmth spreading. It radiated from her chest down her arms. Tingled her fingertips. Maybe it was love. "Oh, yes, Mary Eunice. I - I suppose I should have said it. Instead of constantly terrifying you. Treating you like you were an idiot. I'm sorry for that."

"No, no, sister." Eunice insisted. "You tried to teach me. To make me tougher. To make me think. I needed that. If I'd had more of it, or listened more, maybe...maybe I could have fought harder for my own soul."

"You know, Eunice. I learned something about evil here at Briarcliff. Something I wish I could have known, told ya then. That no matter how strong ya are, it's always stronger. I was devastated when I knew the truth. When I knew that it had ya. I wish I could have…"

"You tried." Mary Eunice set aside her spoon. Came and sat beside Jude on her bed. "The Monsignor tried, too. Look what it won both of you." She looked down at her open palms on her lap. "When I think of what my hands have done, I want to cut them off."

Jude took one of the hands. The fingertips were calloused. She rubbed them. "What - what is this from, Eunice?"

"Beads. Prayers." Jude closed her eyes. The fingertips smoothed under her touch, warmed. Eunice gasped. "What did you…" Her wide eyes met Jude. "Like the touch of Christ."

"No," Jude replied firmly, quickly. "It's more like magic."

"Magic is a sin against God."

"Wrong word." Jude smiled. "Little miracles. Gifts, if ya will. From God himself."

"He chose you."

"No." Again, firm denial. "Shall I teach ya? I taught Shelley and Frank. You're chosen, too, Eunice." Wonder ensconced them. Eunice nodded. Jude thought a moment. "Close your eyes. Now, think of yar favorite color. Maybe...painting yar walls." She caught sight of the tattered rug. "Or a nice new rug. Brightening yar home up. Yeah?" Another nod, Eunice's eyes still closed. "Alright? Now. Open."

She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that Mary Eunice would choose pink. It's just that...there was so _much_ of it. Light pink walls. Bright pink rug. A fluffy pink bedspread. Fluttering pink curtains. Pink vases of pink roses here and there. Jude loosed a laugh. "Wow."

Eunice stood, taking in her surroundings, fingers covering her pleased and surprised gape. "I did this?"

"Yes. And you can do more. It's a way of...making your afterlife a little more bearable. A way of…forgiving yourself. Because the forgiveness of others is just as important as forgiving yourself, Eunice. Understand?"

"I understand." She was fingering a rose. "Beautiful," she murmured. When she returned to Jude, she tucked a blossom behind her older sister's ear. "You forgave yourself?"

"I did. I had to."

"And me."

"Because you needed me to."

"And the Monsignor?"

Jude winced. "I...forgave myself. For letting him hurt me in the ways he did."

"Perhaps you'll have the opportunity to forgive him now. Here." Eunice sat again, laid her head on Jude's bare shoulder.

"Perhaps." Jude whispered. She kissed Eunice's head. "Yar sleepy, little sistah."

"Mm-hm. I feel nice."

"Good." Jude rose. "Get some sleep. Some real sleep. It'll be good far ya."

"I guess so." Eunice agreed hesitantly. "Are you leaving, Sister?"

"Yes. To find some sleep of my own."

"You should avoid the corridors after dark. The Shadows get bolder."

"I'll be fine," Jude assured. "Not far to go."

"Don't underestimate them," Eunice warned. "They're powerful. Once, I found the Monsignor nearly dead. On the steps leading to the basement. He was...covered in soot and their hand prints." Jude stared down at Eunice, forehead creased. "I dragged him to the chapel and locked him inside. I was glad he didn't wake and see me."

"Eunice...the Monsignor. He understands, as well. Better than anyone. He has only forgiveness for you. He freed you, after all."

Eunice nodded. "Yes. But I ruined him."

"He ruined himself!" Jude snapped, then collected herself. Deep breath. "Nevah forget that." She resurrected a reassuring smile. "Maybe...maybe in the morning, you'll come down and have breakfast with us. In the kitchen. Me and Frank and Shelley. They wanna talk to ya. They wanna forgive ya, Eunice."

She teared up. "I don't know if I'm ready."

"Sleep on it." Jude said. "Pray on it." Eunice nodded. "Good night."

"Sister?" Jude paused at the door. "Thank you."

A soft smile. "Yar welcome."

In the corridor, Jude hesitated. There was a temptation to visit her own chambers. To see her office, her bedroom. The tiny bathroom. Maybe make it tolerable as Mary Eunice had made her own. Maybe have a nice, hot soak. The door handle was cold under her fingers, and suddenly, she wanted only the warmth of the kitchen again - of Frank and (even) Shelley's company. Perhaps they were still playing cards...and hopefully clothed.

She started back down the corridor, again quietly avoiding the Monsignor's quarters, when she sensed rather than saw motion. Behind her. She turned, but saw nothing. Odd...a chill slipped up her arms. She shivered, turned again to see blackness.

A moving wall of blackness, burned somewhat human forms surrounding her. The Shadows. "No," she whispered. Remembering Frank and Shelley's advice, she prepared to run - back to Eunice, away from these beings so dark and empty, their hollow eyes glowing red.

But they were behind her, too. Panic gripped her. _Call me,_ Frank had said. She opened her mouth to scream, but found no voice available. An ashen hand gripped one arm, the other. They crackled with energy and her head filled with screams. She pulled free only to be clutched again, couldn't cover her ears and even if she could she had a feeling she would still hear them. She kicked at them only to feel her legs, her ankles gripped. Hard, hot hands all over her, clutching at her thighs even, her dress pulled and sullied with soot. The screaming. A tear of her dress and they were going to rip her apart next. Tear her skin, her bones, her soul. Weakness took her breath. Fingers tasting of cigarettes penetrated even her mouth, her neck bared to a choking ember grip. Rough across her breasts the fingers slid and she felt they were seeking her heart. The screaming overtook all, and silently she prayed they would simply end her because the misery was not worth living…

They were pulling her down, down and the voices had become a chorus, screams united but producing no sense.

 _Unser morder….gib ihn uns…...wir wollen ihn….muss ihn verschlingen…..der kopf des todes_

'I'm going to die here,' she thought. 'Die again. In this place. With my work unfinished.' She would have cried impotent, raging tears were it not for fiery hands covering her eyes, hot breath in her ears and suddenly -

Ashes scattered. The screams faded. She felt herself falling into very human arms, the hands guiding her to the ground gently, then lifting her as gently. Her skin burned, but this touch was cool salvation. "Frank…" she barely croaked. Her throat was on fire. She was being carried to safety...or the final end. Didn't matter. _They_ were gone.

Jude gave herself to the weakness.

A rumpled, tattered pink rose came into view as the blur coalesced into focus. Beside a glass of water that beckoned sweet relief. She was in a bed, a pillow beneath her head. A blanket draped over her. She rose on one elbow, reaching for the water on the table. She was so weak she could barely bring herself to sit up. Dizzy as she looked around.

She didn't recognize these Spartan surroundings. But the water was cool and soothed her parched throat. She swallowed ash and grimaced. Putting the glass back, she saw her arms covered in red, irritable burns. Hand prints. She stretched a leg. There, too. Glanced down at her chest nearly bared by torn dress. More prints. She touched at them; no pain, thankfully, but a tightness that comes from squeezing too hard.

"The marks fade quickly."

Startled, she whipped too fast to face the voice and was rewarded with a dizzy spell. Gasped as a face took solid shape. "Monsignor."

He stood before his windows, the arches casting shadows on a gaunt, pallid face. He cowered as if afraid of her. And perhaps he was. "Sister Jude." His once honeyed tones were now cracking and hoarse.

Suddenly aware how much of her was exposed, she drew the blanket over her chest. She was in his bed, then. "You...saved me."

A broken nod. He gripped a rosary to his chest, priestly garb wretched and askew. His coat unbuttoned to white tee beneath. No collar. The tee shirt hung on an almost skeletal frame. "Finally," he whispered, looking away.

"Finally?" Jude repeated.

"I should have saved you long ago."

She didn't argue with him. In fact, she said nothing. Wasn't exactly certain what to say, anyway. He was so lost… She fought a strong temptation to go to him, to soothe him. Tried to remind herself she wasn't that woman any longer. That desperate, longing, aching, empty woman in love with this myopic, power-hungry, lying, hypocritical man… She self-dosed fresh anger. It helped.

She didn't want to be in his presence. Not yet. Maybe not ever. "Thank you," she whispered. She stood, steadied herself on the bedside table.

"Where are you going?"

"To my own chambers." A wave of dizziness washed quickly.

"Nonsense." He walked toward her, stopped at the foot of his bed. "They've weakened you significantly. Stay here, Sister."

"No, I'm fine." But two steps brought him to her side, catching her once again. A wash of something warm flooded her body inexplicably. She pushed against him. "I can walk."

"Sister -" He held her shoulders gently.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" She swung, knocking his elbows. He drew back sharply. "And don't you _evah_ call me sistah again!" Tears clogged her sore throat. "You took that title from me. Along with everything else." Adrenaline kept her steady now. "Out of all the souls in this filthy abomination for me to save, yars deserves to be here the most." She had to brace her fingertips against the wall, but made it to his door.

"Jude." He called, voice only a touch more firm now. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. I won't ask for it. But the others…"

"I'm already on it, Fathah." She assured, forehead pressed briefly to his door as she took the handle. She had to get away...wasn't nearly ready for this. She managed to open the door.

"Jude. There are things I must say to you."

"Say them to that urn with my name on it." She spat.

"Jude!"

She closed the door. Staggered into the corridor pressed against the wall. She lunged toward her old chambers. Away from Shadows. Away from Timothy Howard. Away from the terrifying tingle in her shoulders where he'd touched her. Away from the bitter long-abiding weakness of what she once called love.

Her office was as she remembered it, though she was too weak, too emotionally drained to take real notice. She made it into her old chambers. Also the same. Bleak. Sparse. Dark. She collapsed on the tiny bed. Curled fetally and let sobs wrack her body.

She woke cold. Had not even covered herself the night before. Grey sunlight crept in the slender window. She let the night come flooding back, sat up to gauge the severity of the hand prints on her body. They did seem to be fading.

She still felt a touch weak. Breakfast would be good. She looked down at her torn dress and frowned. Drew a hot bath in the claw foot tub. A blink produced some lovely bubbles. She washed her hair with minty shampoo. Felt clean again.

Today was a good day for...green. The dress' skirt had a bit of a whirl to it and she liked that. Soft shoes and she pulled her wet hair into a sloppy bun. No frills today.

She peeked into the common room, found it empty. Heard voices in the kitchen and bounced down the steps. "Well, look who's bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning," Shelley smirked. "Nice dress."

Jude squinted. "Yours, too." They'd both opted for green. Frank was at the stove...doing something. Shelley was smearing butter onto a pan of scones. "Did you two...cook?"

"I made these scones. Frank burned the eggs. So now he's doing them again."

"Shhh!" Frank turned violently from the stove. "You said you wasn't gonna say nothin'!"

Jude eased over to him. "Let me, Frank. You rustle us up some orange juice or somethin', huh?"

"Thanks, Jude." He handed over his spatula, which Jude tossed into the sink. She could flip an egg like a ref flipped a coin. "Who wants over easy?"

"Me!" Frank and Shelley chorused.

"Comin' up." Jude flipped one and spun, catching it precisely to applause. She was sliding eggs onto Shelley's plate when movement in the doorway caught her eye. She smiled. "Good morning, Mary Eunice. How do ya like yar eggs?"

Shelley and Frank turned to the little sister, as well. Jude stepped away from the table, a smile belying her nervousness. Mary Eunice tried a smile, too, but the heaviness was already threatening to bring tears. "Scrambled," she said softly.

"Scrambled. Good." Jude turned away. Heard a chair squelch across the tile.

"Have a seat, little sista." Frank. "We're glad to see ya this mornin'."

Eunice sat slowly. That little smile quivering. "Thank you, Frank."

Shelley cleared her throat. (Jude tensed, whisk slowing.) "You...you look nice today, Sister." Shelley's first major attempt at kindness. (Jude resumed whisking.)

"Thank you, Shelley."

Jude heard, rather than saw, the smile break. The first sob escaped and she turned from the stove, hands on Eunice's shoulders. "Frank. Shelley. I'm - I'm so so sorry!" Eunice's head bowed.

"Aww, little sister, come on," Frank cajoled. "I know you bettah than that. I knew somethin' wasn't right with ya. I forgive ya if it makes ya feel bettah, but you know...it wasn't you doin' all them bad things."

Eunice sobbed a little harder. Jude rubbed the heaving shoulders. Shelley rolled her eyes, but chimed in her own Shelley-style forgiveness. "Yeah. Demons are just...real fuckers, Sister. And you must have had a really bad one. Cuz I always thought you were the nicest nun here."

It didn't really help.

Jude made a face at Shelley. Shelley made one back. "What?" She hissed. Jude looked reproachful, and Shelley tried again. "Point is. You know...I forgive you, too. For dumping me in the woods. You were just...doing demon things."

Frank looked pained. Came to Shelley's assistance. "Shelley's just tryna say she knows you wasn't right, too, Mary Eunice. But hey. She still forgives ya, too, right Shelley?"

"That's what I said!" Shelley yelled. "She's not deaf, ya know."

Eunice's sobs reduced to sniffles. Jude gave a final pat and retrieved Eunice's eggs. She was sliding them onto the plate when Shelley grabbed her arm. "What the hell, Judy?"

They all looked. Jude couldn't withdraw her arm. Eunice suddenly stared up at her. "Sister!" Fear in her eyes. And recognition.

"It's fine, Mary Eunice."

"What happened?" Shelley asked, finally releasing her grip.

"I um...I had a little run-in with our shadowy friends last night."

"A little run-in?!" Frank gestured to her arm. "That looks pretty serious. Judy, I told ya ta call me!"

"I tried to, Frank."

"Why didn't you run?" Shelley asked.

"They were all around me." Jude sat. "They grabbed me. I couldn't move. Could barely think." She steepled her fingers. "These things...are a problem."

"Where were ya?" Frank asked. "I walked all the halls last night except the basement."

"You didn't go to the basement, Sister?!" Eunice demanded.

"I was on the third floor." Jude replied firmly. "I'd just left yar room, Eunice. And _don't_ say 'I told ya so.'"

"How did you get away from 'em?" Frank asked.

Jude purposefully took a bite of her eggs. Chewed while they all stared at her, waiting. "The Monsignor...saved me."

"Saved you?" Eunice's eyes glistened. "How?"

"I don't really know how." Jude shrugged. "I felt somebody grab me and carry me and...I woke up safe and sound."

"Woke up where?" Frank needed details. The others just waited like lackeys.

"In his bed," she answered, looking at her plate.

"The Monsignor's bed?!" Shelley, of course. "Are you sure those marks aren't -"

Jude leveled her fork at Shelley. "Don't."

Eunice wore an expression of wonder. "It must have taken great strength to save you. With that many of them, and you being as strong as you are, Sister. They must have been very powerful last night. I'm glad the Monsignor is finding his strength again."

"Aren't we all?" Jude gestured. "Pass the juice, please."

"What are we gonna do about these things?" Shelley asked. "I feel like they're getting worse."

"I'm going to look into it some today. I - I heard some of what they were saying last night. I think it was German."

"German?" Frank huffed. "Damn immigrants."

"Jesus, Frank." Shelley admonished. "Way to be progressive."

"Sister, these eggs are wonderful."

"Thank you, Eunice." Jude sighed relief that the subject was dropped. For now.

After breakfast, Jude left the others in the common room. Eunice seemed comfortable now, or at least moreso, with Frank and Shelley. And she certainly was enjoying playing the blinking game with the jukebox. So Jude sneaked away to the library on the second floor.

It was in as great a disarray as it always was. But the reference section was relatively untouched. She scanned dictionary spines until she found a German one. Snatched it and made haste back to the common room. There was safety in numbers.

It didn't take long for her to find what she was looking for. Her German was non-existent, but she managed to piece things together phonetically, jotting down translations on a blank page in the dictionary. Her light bulb was bright, sudden and terrifying. She was staring at the page in disbelief when Eunice plopped down beside her on the couch. A cloud of dust rose. "What do you have there, Sister?"

She wasn't ready to reveal her suspicion yet. Wasn't ready to begin that particular path of worry. In fact, she needed to have a word with her least favorite person. Soon. So she gave Eunice a dismissive smile. "Just trying to figure out what our shadow friends might be telling us."

"In German?"

"It was a thought."

"Hm." Eunice blinked another pink rose and slipped it over Jude's ear. "These are pretty on you."

Jude laughed. "On Shelley, too, I see." Shelley was decked in a wreath of the lovely flowers, leading Frank on a conga line to Little Eva's _The Locomotion_.

"Pink roses mean compassion," Mary Eunice said. "I read it in a book I have on flowers. Did you know you can basically communicate using flowers?"

"I didn't know that." Jude smiled. It seemed she was learning something new about her little sister all the time. "What about red roses? Those are my favorites. They're for love, right?"

"Yes. Different colors have different meanings." She ticked them off on her fingers. "Red is love, actually. Pink is sweetness, compassion or...admiration. Yellow is for happiness. White is for apology."

"Where did you get this fabulously informative book, Mary Eunice?"

"My first Christmas here, the Monsignor gave it to me. He knew that I was trying to grow roses in the old greenhouse before they tore it down. He likes flowers, too. I think we were both sad to see that greenhouse go."

Jude's jaw tightened at the mention of Timothy Howard. Her nostrils flared slightly. She tried to keep her temper reigned. "I didn't know the Monsignor was so fond of flowers."

"Was he...well? When you saw him last night?"

Her compassion knew no bounds, the little nun. Jude knew she'd wanted to ask after the priest this whole time. "He seemed...well enough." He'd been a ghost, honestly, but Jude had a difficult time generating sympathy. Didn't she?

"I know he betrayed you." Eunice whispered. "I know because the - the demon wanted it. It was...jealous of you."

"Jealous of me? Whatevah for?"

"It saw you as a threat. It knew he listened to you. Trusted you. It knew that he…"

"He what, Eunice?"

"He fought impure thoughts." She spoke so quietly now. "He...loved you."

Jude scoffed, but her heart beat like a timpani drum. "He loved himself."

Eunice shook her head. "It knew that if it broke you, it could break him. You were his strength." Her eyes closed tightly. "The night I - " She shook her head sharply. "The night _it…_ took his virtue...I wore your slip. The red slip." Jude's sharp intake of breath spilled a tear from Eunice's eye. "It knew his weakness. It knew his mind would...turn to you. It knew...that it could make him...hate _you_ for his own weakness."

Jude shook. Her jaw clenched and her lips threatened tremble. To know that Mary Eunice had been powerless against such evil...and that the evil had known so much. But more than that to know - to learn after all this time - that she had not wanted alone? It was too much to bear and she rose, stroking Eunice's arm. "Little sister. Ya stood against the devil. And it may not feel like it, but ya won." She pulled Mary's chin up to meet her eyes. "You've a grace now that can't be defeated, Eunice. Strong like the archangel. With a sword of fire. Don't forget it."

"Judy!" Shelley called. "Come show us that swing move again!"

Jude shot her a half-hearted grin. "Back in a minute, Shelley."

The Monsignor's chamber door was open. He was not there, but a flash of color caught Jude's eye. There in the windowsill behind his bed was the tattered pink rose from her hair last night, kept in a glass tumbler. She swallowed hard and headed for the chapel.

He knelt inside, penitent before the cross, the curve of his shoulders suggesting he spent most of his time this way. She felt no compunction interrupting his prayers. In fact, she knelt beside him, let her shoulder brush his, ignored the thrill it delivered.

He startled at her presence, eyes struggling for a moment to comprehend her presence. "Jude."

"Fathah. I need some information."

"Of - of course."

"Where's Dr. Arden?"

He blinked rapidly. "His soul, you mean? I - I've no idea, Jude."

She squinted at him, sussing lies. "I think he's here."

"Surely we would know if he was."

"I think you do know."

The muscles in his face twitched. "Are you accusing me -"

"Ya covered far him before. Didn't ya? When ya murdered Shelley? When ya put me away? What would stop ya from doing it now, in death?"

The fist clenching his rosary clenched a little harder. "I made mistakes, Jude."

"Ya lied, Timothy!"

"I was guilty!" His raspy voice could only rise so far. "I was a sinner of greed, ambition. Yes, I was corrupt! I was no man of faith. I died by my own hand, corrupt and damned. And here I languish to atone for my wasted, pitiful life. What possible reason would I have for hiding a man who blackmailed me and drove me to even greater depths of debasement?"

His sunken eyes belied no fiction. And Jude felt none. She nodded. "Good enough." Made to rise.

But his cold hand caught hers. She tore her fingers from his, cradling them as if burned. "Don't touch me!"

He stood quickly, frightening for a man in his decline. "Why do you think he's here?" He stepped toward her and she felt the kneeler at her calves.

"I heard the shadows in my head last night. I made out a few words. German words." She attempted to creep along the kneeler toward the door, but he backed her against the altar, still not touching her.

"What did they say?" Her shaking hand withdrew the dictionary from her dress pocket. She opened it and offered him the page. Watched him scan her neat handwriting. "Give him to us...we want to devour him...our torturer...the death's head -" His eyes clipped back to hers. "Death's head."

"He was SS." Jude reminded. "But you knew that."

Timothy's lip curled. "Must everything you say be an accusation? A reminder?"

"Yes," she spat. "I _had_ my peace. And now I'm back here for what? To create peace for _you_?" She scoffed. "I wouldn't know where to start."

"Jude, please…" He bowed his head. Fingers still working the beads unconsciously. His eyes wet. There was no fight in this man.

Jude sighed. "Mary Eunice told me she found ya one night. Near dead on the steps leading up from the basement. I figured you were on your way up from a bachelor's evenin' with your Nazi friend."

"Mary Eunice…"

"Why were ya going to the basement, Fathah?"

"I don't know if I can explain."

"Try."

"I...sensed something there. Something...dark, perhaps. I was afraid of it, and yet compelled to go to it. I took a vial of holy water. I had blessed all of the firmaments but that one, and I thought perhaps I could...vanquish whatever lingered there. But…"

"Holy water cannot help you now," Jude said. "And those things found you?"

"The door. I couldn't open it."

"Locked?"

"No. More than locked. Some sort of...barrier. Invisible to the eye." He closed his eyes, remembering. "I was on my way back up when, yes. Those things captured me. Like they captured you." He looked back to Jude. "You said...Mary Eunice found me?"

"Yeah. Dragged you here. Better person than I am, right? I woulda left ya there ta rot, let those fucking things make ya their bitch." She slipped snake-like past him, headed to the door.

"No, you wouldn't, Jude."

 _Ignore it, Judy_ , her brain said. But her mouth said something else (typical): "Mary Eunice is truly a wealth of goodness, Fathah. And information. I hope you and the devil enjoyed my red slip. It was always meant far you, anyway." Her hand was on the doorknob and predictably he grabbed her elbow. Couldn't see the expression of unadulterated challenge light her face. "I told ya not ta touch me," she growled.

"Don't run away from me." He met her intensity. "I told you I would never ask for your forgiveness, Jude. But I will ask that you...please...do not add to my torture in this dismal afterlife."

"Add to yar torture?" She laughed, real deep genuine feel good laughter. In his skeletal face. "That's rich, Timothy. Ya torture yourself. That's why yar here!" She looked to his hand still on her arm, still gripping. Ignored that damnable tingle. "You made the wrong allies, Cardinal. I woulda worshipped ya all the way to Rome, just like ya said. Ya had a real rare bird that wanted ta sing ya hymns. And now yar eating crow. Because ya had the wrong ambitions. Ya trusted a death dealer with my life, and a demon with yar virtue. And this is what ya get. We craft our own afterlives when we see what we truly are. I'm glad yar blind, and that I have the ability to do this:"

She blinked, snapped her fingers, and the arm he gripped was bare and she pressed against his door in the red silk slip. He nearly choked and she felt a swell of power. Pushed against him until he stepped away - staggered away. She stroked her fingers swiftly up her thighs, revealing garters for only a second, and a flourish of her arms. "See Mary Eunice told me some other things. I'll let ya ponder those yarself. Suffice it to say, I made mistakes, too, Fathah. I believed you were a man of god. But ya were just a man - like all the rest of 'em. And I was just a woman; yearning flesh and hot blood and so stupid and blind in love that I woulda let ya be both - a man _and_ a man of god." It was her turn to back him against the altar. She slid the rosary from his hand, hung it around her own neck and crossed herself as he sat on the kneeler cushion, quaking. She stood over him. "My beloved, love me, since you have been much loved by me, much more than you love me. And after I have laid myself in you, now lay yourself in me. And I felt..." She crouched, animal-like, stroked the insides of her thighs. "An ineffable divine sweetness." His hand made to reach for her, as though he could not resist the reaching, and she stood swiftly. "I was yar creature, Timothy."

This time, he didn't chase her. In the open door, she turned. "But then, it was always only about you, wasn't it? And now, yar creature is free."

Outside in the chapel she leaned against the wall. The rush of power was great. The purge of anger even better. But just being in his presence still left her feeling inexplicably sad. Weak, to hate him so and yet want to throw her arms around him. To punch him in the face and then kiss his bruises. To slap him so hard his soul hurt and then fuck his soul just to see if it felt as good as she imagined soul-fucking would feel…

She shook the emotions. Took a deep breath. Blinked back into her green dress, and headed for the common room.

Her three compatriots were playing Monopoly when she entered. "Frank, I thought you were the dog!" Shelley complained. "You keep moving my iron."

"I am the iron, Shelley!" Frank defended. "Remember? Cuz Ironsides?"

"I'm the dog." Eunice picked up the piece in question. "Ruff, ruff!"

"Oh." Shelley looked back to the board. "Why did I pick the stupid hat?"

"Because yar an asshat." Jude supplied, straddling a chair at the table. "I need to call a meeting. Far some important shit." Shelley handed her a cigarette. Important shit required cigarettes. "I've done a little research into these...shadows. And I have an idea what's up."

"What are they?" Eunice asked.

"I still don't know that, exactly." Jude pointed at her. "But I think I might know why they're here. Or who they're here for."

"Who?"

She exhaled a plume of smoke. "Dr. Arden. Or Hans Gruper. Same thing."

Shelley drew up. Jude could feel her anger swelling. "Dr. Frankenstein is here?!"

"I suspect so."

Frank was shaking his head. "I've never seen him here."

"D'ya ever go in the basement, Frank?"

"Tried to once. The door won't open."

"You've got every key to Briarcliff, Frank."

"That's just it, Judy. The key wouldn't open it. I figure it's stuck fer good."

"I'll open it right now." Shelley stood, shaking angry. "Drag that fucker out like the trash and chop _his_ legs off."

"Sit down!" Jude snapped. "Don't be stupid. If he's down there, like I think, he's got some kind of power figured out. Like ours, but darker. Strong. He's barricaded himself good and tight."

"So how do we get in?" Frank asked.

"I dunno yet." Jude leaned on her palm. "I'm gonna have to figure something out. Pass me the boot so I can commence kicking your asses at this game."

Truthfully, she worried. Deeply. If these shadows were getting worse as Shelley believed, then perhaps Arden was getting worse, too. If it was indeed Arden, which her gut told her it was. And her gut hadn't been wrong. She had a nose for rodents, after all. So...hand over Arden to the shadows? Seemed to be what they wanted. But how to get to the Nazi bastard? She needed help, but who could help her now? The Monsignor? She doubted it. She'd scalded him pretty successfully earlier…

She supposed she could pray, but...that hadn't ever done her much good in the past.

No, she was on her own here. She'd simply have to think harder. And she'd have to go to that basement.

Over dinner, Frank decided that from now on, they would travel in pairs. He and Shelley had become unlikely neighbors, transforming the old security office into a homey little duplex. And Jude and Eunice would walk to their chambers together at night, watching each other enter and lock up. It was the best way to prevent further attacks as severe as Jude's.

That night, Jude watched Eunice's eyes linger on the light under the Monsignor's door. Neither said a thing, and if the little nun sensed anything untoward in her older sister, she didn't mention it. Jude kissed her head goodnight, and they safely shut themselves away for the night.

In her chambers again, Jude redecorated. She missed her cabin in the woods dearly. Its warmth and coziness. So: a stone fireplace, crackling. A feather bed, much bigger. Puffy chair. She wished she could have a porch and birds, but...pictures of birds would do. And bourbon. A yellow ottoman for her feet and she lounged, sipping, not thinking of anything, stroking the lush lace and soft silk gown she'd crafted - the color and smell of lavender. Music would be nice. A blue radio and...Dusty Springfield, very low, a lullabye.

 _When I said I needed you_

 _You said you would always stay_

 _It wasn't me who changed but you and now you've gone away_

The bourbon was working its magic. Her eyelids were heavy with it. The knock definitely surprised her. Mary Eunice? She rushed to open the door, loath to leave anyone open to a possible attack.

 _Don't you see that now you've gone_

 _And I'm left here on my own_

 _That I have to follow you and beg you to come home_

 _You don't have to say you love me just be close at hand_

 _You don't have to stay forever I will understand_

But "Timothy!" She was beyond surprised. That he would have the audacity - the strength even - left to show her his face.

 _Believe me, believe me I can't help but love you_

 _But believe me I'll never tie you down_

"Jude." Not only did he have the audacity, but he looked more determined than she'd ever seen him. "May I...come in?"

"No."

"Then I'll stand here in the hall to say what I have to say. And you _will_ listen."

 _Left alone with just a memory_

 _Life seems dead and quite unreal_

 _All that's left is loneliness there's nothing left to feel_

"Oh, hell." She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, pleased to see that rosary gone. She didn't want to have the shadows at her threshold. "What?"

 _You don't have to say you love me just be close at hand_

 _You don't have to stay forever_

 _I will understand believe me, believe me_

"I know already what you are thinking." He was purposely ignoring her sleeping attire, and so was she. "But you absolutely must _not_ go to that basement. At least not alone."

"Oh, you know me so well." She scoffed, turning from him.

"I know that you are headstrong, and unafraid of anything." He reached for her shoulders and just this time - she let him turn her to face him. "But Jude...those things are...indescribably powerful."

 _You don't have to say you love me just be close at hand_

 _You don't have to stay forever_

 _I will understand, believe me, believe me_

"What are they gonna do, Timothy? Kill me?" She took his hands from her shoulders, gently, though. Something emanated from his fingertips - something that terrified her and tempted her. "I have nothing to lose here."

"Don't think that way." He seemed pained. "I don't know exactly what I'm doing here, Jude, and not in hell, but I assure you...when they attacked me it felt worse than dying did."

"Huh." She meandered back to her chair. Propped her feet, enjoyed his uncomfortable glance away from her long bare legs. "Sit down, Fathah. I'm feelin'...civil now." A blink, and a similar chair appeared for him across from her.

"I - I shouldn't." But he vacillated deliciously.

She blinked. The little radio obeyed.

 _You could be my silver springs_

 _Blue green colors flashin'_

 _I would be your only dream_

 _Your shining autumn, ocean crashing_

"Scared I'll bite?" She asked. Lit a cigarette.

"You're...indecent." He gestured to her state of undress.

 _And did you say she was pretty_

 _And did you say that she loves you_

 _Baby, I don't wanna know_

"Aren't we all, Fathah? Go on. Sit. Get comfy. I have a feelin' you didn't come here to drop an empty warning far my safety."

 _I'll begin not to love you_

 _Turn around, see me runnin'_

 _I'll say I loved you years ago_

Still reluctantly, frightened, he sat. She shifted her ottoman toward him, willing to share. She blinked an ashtray. Propped it on her raised knee. "Now. What's on yar mind. I'm in a most tolerant mood at the moment."

He gestured to the ashtray. "How do you do that, Jude? What is this power you have?"

 _Tell myself you never loved me, no_

 _And did you say she was pretty_

 _And did you say that she loves you_

 _Baby, I don't wanna know_

She rolled her eyes. "Power. Is that how you see it? Is it all about power far you?"

"I might call it an abomination, instead, if you prefer."

"Idiot," she spat. "It's a gift. From yar own God, if he truly exists. You can do it, too." It was lesson time for Timothy. "Go on. Try it. Imagine what you want and close yar eyes."

 _And can you tell me was it worth it_

 _Really, I don't wanna know_

He appeared at a loss. She leaned toward him, knowing she gave him a fantastic view into ample cleavage. "You said I was indecent. Close your eyes, and dress me how you'd have me."

Perhaps suspecting some trickery, he closed his eyes. It almost seemed as though he prayed. Jude tilted her head back, expecting to be enveloped in habit. But when she leaned forward, she found his eyes open, staring, and herself in her red slip.

Her heart felt victorious. She hoped she hid it. "Well, well, well. Interesting choice, Monsignor."

"Don't call me that anymore," he whispered. Leaned into the plush cushion. "Surely, as you claimed, Mary Eunice told you that the demon ferreted out my greatest shame. My weakness?"

 _Time casts a spell on you, but you won't forget me_

 _I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me_

 _I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you_

 _You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you_

"I coulda been yar greatest strength, if you'd let me." She stretched her foot to his armrest. Curled her toes over it.

"I could taste your very desire, Jude."

"And I could control it."

"Perhaps I could not." He stroked the edge of her foot. She couldn't have prevented the thrill that zinged her entire body if she'd wanted to. "It was delicious. Addictive. I was selfish out of fear, Jude. I had to...remove you from my...temptation."

 _I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you_

 _(give me just a chance)_

 _You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you_

"And if you'd given in?"

"I would have lost everything."

She removed her foot from his lingering finger. "Ya _did_ lose everything."

"Tell me what to do, then, Jude. Give me your counsel now."

She took a final drag off her cigarette. Stamped it out in the ashtray. "Come to breakfast tomorrow morning. In the kitchen. Face yar demons. I'm only one of 'em. And I promise you this: the others will be much easier to defeat than me."

He accepted her advice with a solemn nod. "Very well."

"Now." She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Get out of my sight."

He rose. "You will return the favour with my counsel, will you not? Don't go to that basement. And if you must, come to me, first."

She shrugged. "Fine."

 _You could be my silver springs_

 _My blue green colors flashin'_

"Stubborn," he muttered at her door.

"Timothy?"

"Yes?"

She stroked a bare foot up a bare leg, entirely for his benefit. It colored his cheeks. "Sleep tight."


	5. Bring It On Home to Me

**Chapter playlist: _You're So Vain -_ Carly Simon; _Long Tall Sally -_ Little Richard; _Bring It On Home To Me -_ Sam Cooke**

Bring It On Home to Me

Jude was up early. She'd slept well in her refashioned quarters. And she had to admit she was looking forward to seeing the Monsignor at breakfast. She even wore a red dress - just for him. And decided that something special was in order for their menu.

She collected Mary Eunice. "Good morning, little sister."

"It is a good morning." Eunice enthused. She'd made a bouquet for the breakfast table. Jude decided not to mention the Monsignor's visit, just in case he pussied out. Again. "Red is a very nice color on you, Sister."

Jude squeezed Eunice on the way downstairs. "I know," she confided. "We're gonna cook something fun today."

"Ooh, what?"

"Beignets."

"Mayonnaise?"

"No!" Jude laughed aloud. "Beignets. Little fried doughnuts with sugar on them. You'll love 'em, trust me."

"I love sugar."

"Sugar?" Shelley swung into the kitchen right behind them. Smacked Jude's ass. "You gonna give me some sugar, Judy?"

"I'm gonna give ya some soap far that dirty mouth, Shelley."

"No fun."

Eunice snickered behind a hand, and Shelley poked her in the ribs to bring the giggles to the open.

"What's fer breakfast?" Frank asked.

"Beignets." Eunice answered.

"Mayonnaise?!"

"Oh, far Christ's sake." Jude was pulling flour from the pantry. "Beignets! Hasn't anybody evah had a fuckin' beignet?"

"Yeah. French doughnuts." Shelley answered. "They're amazing. Want some help, Judy?"

"That'd be nice, Shelley. And some music." She blinked.

 _You walked into the party_

 _Like you were walking on a yacht_

 _Your hat strategically dipped below one eye_

 _Your scarf, it was apricot_

They had the batter whipped up in no time, rolling the lump on a floured butcher block, all grooving to the relaxing tune while Frank and Eunice squeezed oranges. Such a peaceful morning… And then the Monsignor arrived.

 _You had one eye on the mirror_

 _And watched yourself gavotte_

 _And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner_

 _They'd be your partner, and_

 _You're so vain_

He looked incredibly non-Monsignorly. Dark trousers and a grey cotton oxford. Jude met his eyes over Shelley's bent head. Frank's brows rose. Eunice accidentally squeezed an orange into her eyeball. And slowly - like a scene from a film noir in slow motion - Shelley turned.

 _You probably think this song is about you_

 _You're so vain,_

 _I'll bet you think this song is about you_

 _Don't you?_

 _Don't you?_

"Son. Of. A. Bitch."

"Shelley." Frank rounded the orange juice station, stepping between her and Timothy.

"Leave her be, Frank." Jude calmly interjected, rolling beignets. "They're fine. Eunice, how's that juice?"

 _Oh, you had me several years ago_

 _When I was still naive_

 _Well, you said that we made such a pretty pair_

 _And that you would never leave_

Shelley went straight for blood (as Jude anticipated), shoving Timothy into the utensil wall with both hands. "Good thing you don't have that collar on right now, cuz I'd use it to choke the useless fucking life out of you. Like you did me!"

Her anger was so raw Jude could feel it. They all could. Frank stood by helplessly, Jude giving him a meaningful side eye. Eunice had moved behind Jude, not exactly cowering, but more for protection. "It's all right, little sistah. This has to happen. Pour me some oil in that fry pan and enjoy the show."

 _But you gave away the things you loved_

 _And one of them was me_

 _I had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffee_

 _Clouds in my coffee_

"Shelley. You've every right to your anger," Timothy gasped, the wind knocked out of him. "I deserve your hatred." _Long Tall Sally_ took over the radio and Jude wondered who the hell had blinked _that_ hit.

"Thanks for the permission to have feelings, Captain Obvious," Shelley spat. She smacked him with a wooden spoon. He flinched, curled, and she continued smacking. "Cowardly piece of shit! You never deserved that title. Monsignor. Ya strangled me with a fucking rosary! You didn't even have the balls to touch me! Scared you'd sully your pristine hands? Pontius Pilate pussy ass motherfucker!" Her spoon broke. She grabbed his hair, pulling him to the sink. Jude swirled gracefully aside, twirling Eunice under her arm swing-style. Shelley set the sink on full blast, steam rising. "Wash your hands now! Wash 'em! Pretend I was some unfortunate that _wasn't_ your fault if it makes you feel better. And wash your face to so you can show it to me without a shit-stain of shame!" She shoved his head under the spray.

Jude had to give him credit. He was taking this abuse better than she had. Of course, he lacked the justification she had. Or the plain old gumption to fight. She doubted Timothy had ever even exchanged a heated word in his life.

He sputtered in the stream of water. Shelley held him there. "You know what?" She continued, tears of anger, of pure rage creeping into her voice. "I baptize you. I baptize you a lying -" She dumped a handful of dish powder onto his head " - betraying, hypocritical, Narcissistic -" She rubbed the soap to a rabid lather " - deceitful, cowardly, blackmailing, stupid, short-sighted -" She flung him away from the sink, into the butcher block.

"Watch the beignets!" Jude yelled. Frank grabbed the butcher block, smoothly rolled it toward Jude.

Timothy landed on his ass and Shelley continued smoothly, straddling his knees and towel-popping his face. "Rotten, disgusting, lustful, power-hungry, idiotic, selfish, myopic, misanthropic, psychopathic, mentally deranged MURDERER! You hear me?" She cast the towel aside and grabbed his ears. "You're a murderer, man of God!"

Jude began slicing beignets, passing them one by one to Mary Eunice who dropped them carefully into the bubbling oil.

Shelley took a breath at last, leaning into Timothy's face close enough for him to smell her breath. "I'd choke the life out of you with my bare hands right now if I thought it would actually kill your dead ass! But that'd be a waste of my precious time. Because honestly, Father? I've wiped better shit off the walls of the hydrotherapy room than you and you aren't worthy of another ounce of my energy. You don't deserve to be here with us. You don't deserve Jude, or Frank, or Eunice! Any of us! You might as well have stayed cloistered away fucking your favorite statue of the blessed virgin forever because you've decided to show up and ruin beignets for EVERYBODY!"

Slowly, she stood up. And spat on his chest. Jude flipped beignets. Shelley plated them. Timothy coughed, drawing himself to his knees before Shelley. He bowed prostrate before her, neat oxford wet and covered in flour. "Everything you speak is truth," he gasped. "And I can only beg your forgiveness, Shelley. Not expect it."

Shelley nudged his head with her foot. "Damn right." She blew hair out of her face. "I'm not stupid. I know that's why we're all here. But I have to admit, it's a little harder with you, Father." She straightened her boho skirt, reached out a hand toward Jude, who placed a clean towel in it. "Thanks, Judy." She wiped soap and water from her arms and hands. Dried the ends of her hair. "I feel a little better." She draped the towel around Timothy's neck. "You will, too, father. I'll think things over. And get back to ya." She turned back to the stove and Jude, purposefully shoving her ass in Timothy's face. "Meanwhile...welcome to breakfast, I guess."

After that, breakfast progressed with relative pleasence. If awkwardly quiet. Timothy occasionally sniffled. He had a bloody nose. Jude saw, and gestured to her own nose, handing him a cloth napkin. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Judy." Frank as usual was the one to break the silence. "These mayonnaise biscuits are amazing."

"Thanks, Frank."

"Beignets." Shelley corrected. "What do you think, Tim?"

Timothy cleared his throat. "Jude has displayed her usual skill in the kitchen. These are… perfect." Eunice slathered apple compote onto another beignet. She hadn't even looked at the Monsignor. He continued, appraising each of them. "I regret that I have not...engaged any of you before now. Except for you, Shelley."

"Thanks, Father."

"And Jude informs me that you are all...aware of the Shadows that haunt our halls. They are concerning. As is the possibility that...Dr. Arden is among us, hidden."

"Yesterday's news," Shelley droned. "I'm more concerned about how I get the hell out of here, to Paris, where I belong. And far away from this freak show."

"I've told you how, Shelley." Jude reminded, sipping her juice. "And I believe yar well on yar way. But. I also believe this matter of the shadows, and of Dr. Arden has to be handled before any of us can go anywhere."

"So we have to pay for his sins?" Shelley asked. "That's total bullshit. I already paid for his sins. And his." A powdered sugar finger pointed at the Monsignor. "And yours." Pointed at Jude. "So I'm tapped out. No more fucks to give. Mary Eunice?" The little nun looked at Shelley as if she just became aware Shelley existed. "You've been awfully quiet. What do you think of this 'vanquishing the shadows' idea?"

Eunice looked at Jude, but Jude looked away. Her protege had to start answering for herself. In all things. "I wonder that the shadows are evil at all."

Timothy rested his chin on his hands, caught Jude's eyes. "Explain?"

"I know that we find them frightening. But I don't know that they're...evil. What if we just don't understand what they're trying to accomplish? What if they're actually asking for help?"

"You're nuts." Shelley was rising from the table. "These things really got hold of Judy. Look at her fucking arms! They can do that to any of us. And maybe worse. We don't know what they're capable of, or what we're not capable of. Frank?"

"Yeah, Shelley?"

"Come to the common room with me. I don't like where this conversation is going. And my tolerance for new...friends...has worn out."

Frank rose. Wouldn't argue with Shelley. In a way, he'd adopted her. "Judy. Great breakfast as always and uh - good to see ya, Monsignor."

"Just Timothy, Frank." The ex-priest smiled tersely. "And...thank you for having me."

Silence fell on the kitchen. Eunice stood, too, began gathering dishes. Timothy stopped her. "Eunice. Please, sit."

"Yes, Father."

He started to correct her, stopped at Jude's head shake. "Sister. You must know that I hold no blame over you for things that happened during your possession. You have to understand I forgive you. And that moreso, I apologize so deeply...that I was unable to save your precious soul. That regret has been one of my greatest of many regrets. Do you understand?"

"It wasn't your fault, Father. But I understand." Jude rubbed Eunice's shoulder, hugged her. "Father?" The young nun had very wet eyes.

"Yes, Sister?"

"Have you...left the church?"

Jude looked at him as expectantly as Eunice did.

"I believe...the church has left me. And perhaps I never belonged within it."

"Is it...because of what happened?" Eunice asked. One tear slipped. Jude thumbed it away.

"No." Timothy was firm, but gentle. "Mary Eunice...you are clearly aware I was plagued by significant doubts, sins and transgressions. And now, is the time for my personal reckoning."

"And mine." Eunice nodded. "Father?"

"Yes?"

"My virtue is also destroyed. Does this mean the church will leave me?"

His face reflected his pain at the girl's innocent question. And answers seemed to slip his grasp. Thank God for Jude… "Little Sistah. You're closer to God than anybody I've evah known in this life. And you know there are no secrets from God. He saw everything that happened. He knows every truth. Eunice...virginity - virtue - whatevah you wanna call it. That's a tricky thing. On the one hand, it's just...a physical barrier. But on the other hand, it's a spiritual one. And which do you think is more important to God?"

Eunice was beginning to smile. "The spiritual."

"Of course," Jude whispered. She took hold of Eunice's hands. "And the blessed virgin herself might not have the spiritual virtue you have, sistah."

Eunice reached for Jude's face, cupped her cheek. Jude nuzzled the touch. "You always know, Sister Jude."

"I learned the hard ways."

Eunice blinked, slipped another pink rose behind Jude's ear. "Thank you. And thank you, Father." She stood, stretched as though a great weight was lifted. "I'm going to start a Monopoly game. I have a talent for it." She dipped a finger into a pile of powdered sugar. Licked it. "If you need my help with the shadows, let me know. I don't know what I can do, but I do think there's more to them than meets the eye."

Alone in the kitchen, Jude and Timothy sat across from each other in quiet contemplation. He broke the silence. "You have a particular understanding with them. Especially Eunice."

Jude shrugged. "I just listen."

"You say exactly the right things."

"I speak the truth."

"Yes, you do. Always did." He sighed. "May I see your arms?"

"The marks are clearing up."

"I would like to see them clearing up."

An eye roll. She stretched her arms across the table. His fingers stroked gently over the now pink prints. Jude closed her eyes, let the singing sensation swirl. She could have moaned from the pleasure. "What is that?" Timothy asked quietly.

"Mmm?"

"You feel it, as well."

She opened her eyes to see his closed. His fingers still stroked her arms. "It's…"

"Pleasure." He breathed.

"Stop," she whispered. But her body begged him for more. And as though he listened to her body, and not her mouth, he increased the pressure until their breath caught in tandem. Drawing on all of her strength, she pulled her arms inward. He took her hands. "Don't."

"I want to touch you, Jude." He bowed his head, ashamed and laid bare.

Her fingers slipped out of his slowly, agonizingly. But this time the sensation remained coursing. Shaken, she lit a cigarette. "Once upon a time…" Her voice was husky with want and resentment. "Is this why yar no longer a Father?"

"No. It's a part of the whole." A wry smile. "I was a dreadful holy man, Jude. You were right. Just a man. Who lusted. Who loved. Who denied himself in the name of God."

Her throat ached. She was hot. "Loved?" What kind of man loved like that...

"Do you believe in perfect love?" He asked.

"No."

He chuffed a rueful laugh. "I still do."

"Then yar still foolish." She gestured. "What do ya want Timothy? What's yar peace?"

Timothy sighed, folded his hands before him. "When I was a boy, I lived in a very poor neighborhood. Just outside of London. My father worked several factory jobs. My mother was a seamstress. A devoutly religious woman. My father...was not so. He occasionally drank. To excess. Occasionally beat my mother. Myself. I had a young sister who had a disease. She died very young. I remember it devastated my mother, and she prayed vehemently and passionately that my sister was accepted into heaven. Once I asked her why it was so important that she must pray for it every single day. She said that God's love was perfect love. That heaven was perfect peace. She wanted that for my sister. For herself. For me. She contracted pneumonia when I was nine. Before she died, she told me that she'd never truly felt love. For me, my sister, her husband. She told me that the only love I would ever truly feel would be God's love, and I believed her. My father wasted away after that, from drink mainly. When I was eleven, he died, and I went to a Catholic boys' home. And...after that - Seminary. So I suppose I never established my own ideals of peace. And my ideals of love were...unreal." His fingers absently worked designs on the table surface and Jude imagined them on her body. "There was a sister...at the boys' home." He smiled, reminiscing. "Sister Joan Lucas. She was kind to me. Motherly, I guess. She encouraged me. Inspired me. Told me grand tales of Cardinals, Popes and Sainthoods. I suppose she was...a very influential woman. More influential than my mother, certainly. More passionate in her convictions. When I first met you, Jude, you reminded me very much of her."

Jude nodded. "I see. What happened to her?"

He shook his head. "After I went to Seminary we corresponded for years. She went to a mission. I believe in Japan? Died when I was...23? 24?"

"Were you sad to lose her?"

"No." He was quick to answer. "I was absolutely convinced she had achieved that perfect love. I envied her a bit. And...I devoted myself wholly to rising within the church. For her, perhaps. For my mother. My sister. Something to prove to people who no longer existed to impress."

"And for yourself?"

"I was comfortable. The church cared for me. Nurtured me."

"And a nun."

He tapped the table with some finality. "And a nun."

Jude laughed ruefully. "You were created for the cloth, by the cloth."

"You were not."

"No."

He took a cold beignet. "Your turn, Jude. What destroyed your belief in perfect love?"

She sighed deeply. Why not? "I had a similar childhood to yars. Only a single mother. And she was the one who liked the drink. Family curse. She was religious, but not devoutly so. Neither was I. I grew up running the roads, so to speak. I was a piss poor student. Didn't like to study particularly. I worked. Hard. Met a fellah. Fell in love. Got engaged. Whole shebang. He...cheated on me. Gave me an infection. Accused me of being a whore. So...I guess I became one. I sang. In jazz clubs. I slept around. I still drank. And one night…I had an accident. I was driving. Drunk as hell. I hit a little girl on a bike. And I ran. I left her. I thought she was dead. But I was scared. I drove off aimlessly and woke up at a convent. Staring up at a statue of St. Jude." She spread her hands. "And here I am."

His forehead creased. "You _thought_ she was dead."

A wry grin. "It was only here at Briarcliff that I learned the truth. She lived. Grew up. Had a baby of her own."

"A miracle."

"Dumb fucking luck."

"Luck you had not known."

"Very perceptive."

"And...your fiancee. Was he so powerful in his deceit that he truly destroyed your belief in love?"

"No." Jude stood. Dropped a few more dishes in the sink and leaned against it. "You did that, Timothy."

His jaw tensed. "I didn't realize -"

"Of course ya didn't. Ya weren't supposed to." She paced. Wrung her hands. "Ta know yar trusted sister - yar right hand - yar _rare bird_ \- wanted to be yar…"

"My what?" He asked quietly, pushing her. Challenging.

"Yar lover." Her eyes were wet. "You were so good, Timothy. I believed in ya. I believed I was so damaged, so unworthy, so -"

"Jude." He stood.

She held out a hand, stopping him. "Don't."

"I just -"

"No! Whatevah yar gonna do, just...don't." She chewed at her lip, thinking, not looking at him.

Timothy stood awkwardly by the table, uncertain how to approach her, or if he even should. So he let her fret. And she reached her own decision. A blink of big brown eyes and the radio flared.

 _If you ever change your mind_

 _About leaving, leaving me behind_

 _Oh, oh, bring it to me_

 _Bring your sweet loving_

 _Bring it on home to me_

She paced a few more seconds, gently swaying. Her hands shook nervously at her sides and finally: "Wanna dance with me?"

 _I know I laughed when you left_

 _But now I know I only hurt myself_

"I - I've never danced." But his eyes were bright.

"Nevah?" Jude shook her head. "Far Christ's sake." She held out her hands. "Come on, then. If I can teach two five year olds I can teach you."

He took her hands, fully anticipating the static pull. He loved it. Had gotten used to it. But, he'd truly never danced with a woman, so a brief awkward skirmish occurred. His hands didn't know where to go, both aiming for her waist. She pulled one back into the air, and he raised the other. She took it down and he took her shoulder with the other. Jude laughed. "No,no, no...don't - stop, Timothy. Just - here." Firmly, she place one hand on her waist, stiffly raising his other. "I'll um...I'll lead, then. Watch my feet and just...follow. Slowly!"

He smiled. The electrical rush was more of a pulse this way. Close to her, it felt like a second heartbeat. But when he bent to watch her feet, he bumped her forehead.

"Ow!" They exclaimed, laughing.

"Shit," he muttered, glancing up.

Jude's surprised eyes flicked to his. "Is that the first curse word you've ever uttered?"

"No!" He was nearly defensive. "I think I've said damn."

"Give me a few more days," she promised. "I'll teach you how to do that, too."

 _Oh, oh, bring it to me_

 _Bring your sweet loving_

 _Bring it on home to me_

For a moment, they moved in a simple box step. He caught on quickly, and it wasn't lost on Jude when he moved a bit closer. "Doing fine," she whispered.

"When do we do the twirling thing?" He asked.

"You can do it now, if you think you're ready."

"No, I'm not ready." She laughed, hummed, beginning to relax. "Alright. Now I'm ready."

"Go for it."

The twirl was a little stiff, but relatively successful. He transitioned to their original positioning stiffly. "That went well."

She chuckled at him, let her forehead rest against his chest. Subtly, he sniffed her hair. It smelled like warm sugar. She felt him swallow thickly.

 _I'll give you jewelry and money too_

 _That ain't all, that ain't all I'll do for you_

 _Oh, if bring it to me_

"This is quite peaceful, I think." He murmured into loose curls.

"This is...perfect." She agreed softly. He wished he could see her face. But she seemed content to lean her head just this way. "Shall we try another spin?" She asked.

"No. I think...just…" He shifted his hold, his body, and she pressed fully against him. "This."

She didn't protest.

 _Bring your sweet loving_

 _Bring it on home to me_

"Jude."

"Shhhh."

He hushed. And they danced.

 _You know I'll always be your slave_

 _'Till I'm buried, buried in my grave_

 _Oh, honey bring it to me_

 _Bring your sweet loving_

 _Bring it on home to me_

The group spent the day apart, for the most part. It was as if each needed some time, some space. There was much to process. Jude was shaken by her conversation with Timothy. By their dance. Her self felt off somehow. Body vibrating. She'd wanted to kiss him, yes. Had felt he wanted to kiss her. But beneath the hum, the pulsating magnetism, was a deep, treacherous fear. The fear that something so wonderful, so pure, so perfect...could lead only to harm. To deceit - again. That perfect love was, indeed, a myth.

They'd not cooked dinner together. She missed the company, but needed the separation. She'd stayed in her chambers instead, poring over the same German words over and over and over. It made her head hurt. She sipped bourbon for the burn and crumpled the paper. "God, I need help," she muttered.

"You're on the right track."

She whirled, sloshing bourbon. Stared disbelievingly at the figure sitting on her bed. "Pepper?"

"Hello, Jude."

"What…" She approached slowly, cautiously. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You said you needed help." Pepper shrugged. "We have a mutual friend."

"But…" _Shachath._ "Pepper...what happened to you?" She sat beside the pinhead, touching her affectionately. "I - I missed you." It was true. After Pepper was gone, Jude had no one in Briarcliff. Until Kit came for her, of course.

"I found a family. Like you did. And now, my family is immortal. Like this one kind of."

Jude shook her head in wonder. "You said we have a mutual friend. Shachath?"

"She sent me to check in." Pepper took the crumpled paper from Jude. "You already know who's in the basement, I presume."

"Yes."

"And that the shadows want him?"

"That's our assumption."

"You're correct."

"How do we - how do we deliver him to them?"

Pepper sighed. "You won't like it."

"Ugh, don't give me riddles, Pepper! I've got enough of those." She took hold of Pepper's shoulders. "I feel like we're so close. So close to freedom, to peace."

"What does evil want, Jude?"

Thought. "Power."

"It already has power. True, it seeks to gain more. But what drives the seeking?"

"Hell, I don't know!" Jude stood, frustrated. "I'm so tired of evil, Pepper! Can't we have one good, pure, innocent…" She stopped. "Innocent." Turned to Pepper. "Innocence."

"Bingo."

She sat again, wheels turning. "But the only innocence here is…" She shook her head. "No. Absolutely not."

"Told you you wouldn't like it. But she did say she would help," Pepper reminded.

"Arden was a monster in life. I can only assume he's a greater monster in death. I won't send Mary Eunice to him like a Christmas present."

"You don't have to send her. She will lure him out."

"How?"

"It's right under your nose, Jude. Think now."

"I'm thinking!" She thought. "Under my nose...it's something she already does. Or has. But Eunice doesn't...wait. It's our power. This power we have! To blink and-"

"You don't even realize the scope of what you have. None of you. But especially Mary Eunice. She's chosen."

"Chosen?"

"She has a great purpose."

"And this is part of her purpose."

"It's her final exam, you could say."

Jude nodded. "Is it...dangerous?"

"Everything is dangerous."

"Why didn't you ever talk like this when you were a patient here?"

"I didn't have anything to say."

Jude rolled her eyes. "Yar killing me, Pepper."

"She needs your encouragement."

"She has it! Always! But I have no idea what I'm encouraging her toward."

"Pink roses."

Jude blinked at Pepper. "I don't understand."

"The Monsignor will understand."

Jude chuffed. "He's not a Monsignor anymore."

"True." Pepper shifted uncomfortably. "About that…"

"What?"

"Get a move on, Jude. You're wasting time."

"Don't take that tone with me!" Jude poked Pepper's arm. "Wasting time on what?"

"We need the two of you to move along."

"Move along how?" But Jude was flushed.

"Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you." Pepper sniffed. "It's important."

"Important that I...seduce a man who doesn't even know how to two-step?"

"Seduction won't be necessary. I recommend a direct approach. Trust me. It will be worth your while."

"And...what will that accomplish exactly?"

"Two birds. One stone."

"Fucking riddles, Pepper."

"Fucking isn't a riddle, Jude. Pretty straightforward, actually."

"It isn't that simple!" Jude insisted. "I can't even fully forgive him yet for -"

"You will. You must. You'll see your completion with him. And vice versa."

"Are you really going to give me any answers here?"

"You have the answers." Pepper stood. "And I have somewhere to be."

"Where?"

"We have a show in ten minutes."

"A show?" Jude was so confused.

"It's not important." Pepper stopped in Jude's door. "Talk to Eunice. Fuck the Monsignor. Get your job done."

"Pepper!" But the door closed, and Jude stared at it, agape.


	6. Epiphany

**Smut ahead. Lots of smut. Be warned. Playlist is _mostly_ implied: ****_Hallelujah -_** **Jeff Buckley (Although the Rufus Wainwright version works beautifully as well);** ** _Take Me to Church_** **\- Hozier;** ** _Whore -_** **In This Moment;** ** _Voices of Light: Noster -_** **Richard Einhorn;** ** _Canon in D Major -_** **Pachelbel.**

Epiphany

Pepper had annoyed her. There'd been some answers, yes, but not what she truly wanted. Jude was ever a pragmatic woman of solids and immediacy; she found it difficult to decipher vagaries delivered as equations. It just meant more mysteries to solve.

But sex. _That_ was a solid. Familiar territory - if it had been a while. She chuffed a rueful laugh as she walked down the hall, checking for shadows and finding none. "Completion." Whatever the hell that meant.

Not that completion didn't sound...simply phenomenal. She'd always been a sucker for a good, proper orgasm, rare as they were. But when she thought of the pull between them, that agonizingly delicious deep desire that seemed so shared… She admitted to herself that putting a rush on things wasn't terribly bothersome.

She knocked at his chamber door, but he didn't answer. His light burned underneath, so she simply entered. She heard noises in the adjoining bathroom. Water. He was showering.

Timothy had changed things...just a bit. There was a bookcase now. She scanned it. Classics. Milton. Dante. Chaucer. Poetry. Interesting…His bed was a little bigger, with a fluffier pillow and a dark duvet. A rather ornate couch with taut brocade. Sconces. It was much dimmer with just the candles lit. "Dracula's castle," she murmured.

Turning to the bed, she tisked. That would never do. Blinked. Better. Ignoring anticipation, ignoring the tight demand between her legs, she stripped briskly and climbed into the grand four-poster, gathering white sheet over her bare chest and waiting in the lush bedding. She heard the shower turn off and bit her lip.

He was whistling when the bathroom door opened, a towel cinched around his hips, another one vigorously drying his hair. He froze when he saw the bed - when he saw her. She swallowed. Flickering candlelight reflected off the stray water droplets on his chest. She could practically taste them.

"Jude."

"Timothy."

His eyes screamed fight or flight. "You're…"

"Indecent?" She asked.

"That's not what I was going to say."

She shrugged. "Come to bed?"

"With you."

"Unless you intend ta kick me out."

"No, no, no!" He practically lurched toward her. "I just...didn't expect…"

"There's some urgency."

"Urgency?"

"Yeah. Far me." He was close enough for her to reach him. One hand holding her modesty sheet, she reached for his towel and tugged. Her brows rose. "And far you, it seems."

"Jude."

She scooted over in the bed. "That's my name."

Awkwardly, slightly frightened, he climbed into the bed beside her. "I'm a bit wet," he apologized.

"Me, too." She did not apologize.

"Ah." He colored charmingly, settling into pillows. "Um...will you be...sleeping...here this evening?"

"I hope not." She propped on her elbow, staring at him. "You said you wanted to touch me earlier, Timothy. Did ya change yar mind?"

"No." Decision achieved, he reached for the hand holding her sheet, and she let him tug it. He kissed her knuckles before pulling, wrapping her arm across him. Jude took the hint and stretched against him. The frisson of energy was a roaring tide in their ears. "Jude."

"Yes?"

"I've never even kissed a woman before."

She stroked his cheek. "Poor thing." Her lips met his. This kiss was a chapel, a first communion. And he worshipped.

Every touch, tingle, vibration, every pulsating pull that had come before could not have prepared them for this true fire. For the surge of something godly or ungodly that hid in his first kiss. The very lights of Briarcliff flickered and his arms wrapped her like angel's wings. They forgot to breathe, drowning in strange sensations and a thing deeper than desire. His lips opened hers and they tasted each others' emptinesses and more - salt. Tears. The sea filling the gaps, the tide rolling in as he rolled her beneath him.

Her fingers sought and stroked and scratched and she finally gasped air when his mouth found her neck. "Oh, god!" They were starving. This was praying. These were hymns; her moans, groans and whines. A lustful choir of angels singing.

"You feel so good," he muttered, mindless. "My rare bird…" A hand pawed breast, pushed it to his mouth. "I want to know every part of you, Jude."

"Every part of me is yours." She hissed in his ear. "It always was." She slid her legs up his hips as his hand slid between them. "Christ, Timothy just -" Exploring fingers caught her breath.

"So soft," he murmured, fingers slipping over her mons and inside the mysterious folds. His fingers were baptized with her sticky, sopping eagerness. The devil's own emollient promising pleasure. It nearly burned him. "You're hot like hell."

"This doesn't feel like hell," she wept. Her own fingers found him hard, maneuvered him. He groaned. "I promise you can explore me all ya want later, Timothy. I'll be yar whore. You'll want me for everything ya hated me far. I'll be filthy for ya, but right now I need ya inside me."

"Yesss," he hissed. She was slicker than holy water and he slid inside the altar of her cunt. He was driven to join with her, driven, guided by an unexplainable. Her calling was greater than God's. She enveloped his cock and his soul and he feared losing himself as much as he feared paining her. Her neck nearly split itself and her cry pierced his control. He clutched her head in one hand. "Does this hurt?"

She barely heard him over the rich, operatic song in her body. "Nooo," she moaned. He could never understand. "Move, Timothy. Please." Her pelvis urged him.

"I can't!" He choked. And yet he did move. He thrust in her, pumped fast, more violently than he could realize. Moving inside her, the Holy Ghost settled above his back. Her head pressed into pillows and an arm buttressed her against the massive headboard. "I can't -"

"We have all night," she reminded, thready, nipping his ear. "Even longer. Just - ah!" But all night was not necessary, it seemed. Her body not her own, it responded to him as if he'd created her. And perhaps he had. His creature came apart at the seams - chest opening to reveal the burning Milagro within as his seed encapsulating his very essence spilled into her.

Something sealed up. Some fissure. Something strengthened like stone. Their skin - slick with sweat or saliva - stuck together, securing them tightly. Jude's legs shook as she lowered them along his sides.

"Jude, Jude, Jude," he sobbed. His patron saint. He was her lost cause. Home was inside her. Peace was in the cradle of her thighs. Weak for the woman, he wept. Wondered if Christ had ever had this pleasure in His Magdalene's thighs...

Jude soothed. Stymied by her own surprising response to him. Wanting for more. "Shhhh, Timothy." She urged him to look at her, to meet her eyes. Kissed him softly. "Just be with me, now. Yeah?" She wrapped him in her arms and he wrapped her back, rolling them again until she rested draped across his side.

"I cannot be without you, Jude." He rubbed his face. Stunned at what he once would have called a transgression. He pressed his lips to hers, holier now to him than the pope's ring. He should have worshiped her sooner. "I wish that you had been the one," he confessed quietly, fingers tracing pagan promises on her shoulder. "The one who took my virtue."

"You remember what I told Mary Eunice about virtue." Jude kissed his chest - just over his still-slowing heart. "So maybe I was the one." She propped on her elbow again. "Timothy. I have to tell ya something…"

"What?"

"That -" She gestured amorphously, flicking tousled curls. " _That_ has never been so...wonderful. Far me, at least."

"I believe it was perfect love."

"Is that what it was?"

"It was...epiphany."

"Timothy."

"Yes?"

She closed her eyes. "If there's perfect love...there's forgiveness."

He gripped her chin. "You forgive me, Jude?"

The closed eyes slipped tears. "Yar rare bird can...let go of the past. I have to. If I can't not love you, and I fucking _can't not love you_ , then yes. I forgive you."

Peace wiped tears from cheeks. Peace pressed lips together. Peace prevailed in pale sheets, purifying. Perfecting love.

Perhaps they dozed. Or simply lazed in the glow of laxity, of pleasure's profits. They were quiet for a time. Happy. Genuinely happy. Jude almost didn't want to interrupt the moment, but duty called. "Timothy."

"What?"

"Tell me about pink roses."

His forehead creased. "I don't understand."

"Mary Eunice said you gave her a book once. On flowers and symbolism. Tell me about pink roses."

"Well. They would symbolize compassion. Purity."

"Innocence?"

"Yes, I suppose. Why?"

She sat up, stretching. He traced the curve of her spine. "I had a visitor earlier."

"Who?" He was entirely distracted by her body. She didn't mind so much.

"Pepper." She jerked when his fingers found ribs. "Ticklish!"

"I see that." He tried to focus, sitting up beside her. "Pepper?"

"Yes. She came to...help me? I think. Far what it was worth. I needed answers."

"About Arden."

"Exactly."

"And what did she say?"

Jude sighed. Hugged her knees. "That Mary Eunice can lure him out. That she is chosen for some greater purpose."

"That sounds dangerous for Mary Eunice."

"I know." She groaned. "I hate it. I don't know if I can ask it of her."

"It seems unfair." He considered. "Can we protect her?"

"Pepper said we - all of us - don't even grasp the scope of our powers. Maybe that's what she meant. That we can somehow...bolster Mary Eunice."

"You already do that, Jude. Mary Eunice finds great strength in you. Imagine if we all supported her together."

"True." She looked at him. "Yar pretty smart, ya know."

"Only with you at my side. As always." He tucked hair behind her ear. "If you like, I shall speak to Mary Eunice with you tomorrow. What else did Pepper say?"

Jude rolled her eyes. "Mostly vagaries. She did say she's found a family. I guess sort of like we have here. Apparently, they're...performers?"

"Interesting."

"Yep. And she said something interesting about us."

"About you and I?"

"Mm-hm." She lay back again, carnal temptation incarnate against his pristine bedding. "That...this...between us was some kind of completion."

He accepted this easily. "I feel...complete."

She smiled. "I do, too."

"Jude."

"Yes?"

"You said I could explore later?"

A laugh. "You actually remember what I said?"

"Quite vividly, trust me."

"Well. I did say that. So...what do you want to explore, Father?"

His face darkened in a most sensual way. "Everything, Sister."

She stretched her arms above her head, pressed fingers to the dark wood behind the pillows. "I'm at yar disposal."

He needed no further permissions. His hand was already flat against her belly, stroking upwards, finger dipping for a second into navel. "You're so soft. Like velvet." If she didn't know any better, she would have called him a breast man for all the attention he gave hers. "You're beautiful, Jude." He laved a nipple, fascinated by its hardening. "Does that feel good?"

"Very." She sighed. "Every time you touch me feels good."

He spoke around her other nipple. "Can I touch you here?" His hand traveled down, down, back over her lurching belly to the seat of her feminine.

"Yes!" She cried, biting her lip.

"Show me how." She covered his fingers with her own, shaking slightly, and dipped them into sin. Timothy watched her face, watched her eyes slit like a cat's when his fingertip encountered her firmed clit. She bit her lip on a moan, encouraging him to flick. He watched their fingers. "You enjoy that particularly."

"That's god's gift to women," she whispered. She left his hand to its remarkable work to take hold of his face. "Kiss me."

Lewdly, he complied, biting at her lips, sucking her tongue. Her belly undulated against his forearm as he continued flicking. He dipped a finger, interrupting the rhythm. "That makes you very wet," he observed almost matter of factly.

"Mm-hm." She chased his mouth again with her own. "Fuck! Don't stop!"

"It also turns your vernacular to the purely profane." But his fascination had shifted. "It is my understanding, Jude…" He rose above her, slithering down her torso like a snake, speaking suggestively against her quivering abdomen. "That women are pleasured by their lovers' mouths, am I correct?"

"Oh, Christ, Timothy. Stop interrogating and eat me out, already."

Her desperation was entrancing. And his curiosity was addictive. But his mouth on her was pure, curated wickedness. Gentler than fingers, more questioning, more decadent. He moaned at first taste and she clutched sheets, whimpering at the pleasure. "I taste us together," he said.

"I know." She could barely formulate words.

He rested his elbow on her thigh, holding her still and spreading her with that hand to observe his work. He was a man of thorough study. Very thorough. He'd discovered his other hand could work in tandem with his criminal mouth, stroking her slit until she frothed. Her skin was covered in a fine shimmer of sweat. He wondered what she felt like inside, sent fingers to find out and was surprised when she arched sharply. "Yes!"

A positive response, so he increased the pressures of tongue and fingers until a glorious litany of blasphemy poured from her pouty lips and the part of her that acted like an animal unto itself gripped him strongly. She coated his hand in her body's molten spendings. She curled up to grasp his hair, pulling him away weakly. "Stop, stop, stop!" She gasped. "Yar killing me." Her mouth took his. Awkwardly she rose to her knees, bringing him along and pushing him backward.

His back hit the bed, head near the foot, and she straddled his thighs. She was the most diabolical thing he'd ever seen; above him victorious, flushed skin, bright cheeks, eyes black with desire, hair a lion's mane of curl. "I told ya I'd be yar whore, Father."

"You did!" He gasped, reaching for her.

She stopped his hands, holding them in her own. "That I'd be filthy for ya."

"Yes, Sister."

"I'm about to blow yar mind...and other things." She bent over him, kissing his chest, his belly, all the way down to -

"Jude!" He grabbed her head when her mouth closed around his tumescence. "You - ugh…" But it was all so deliciously illicit any protest he may have even considered was lost in garbled, guttural groans. His hand fisted her hair, following the up and down motion of her head. His other fell upon her shoulder, squeezing. "Jude. My god. Oh, heavenly host…"

Her cheeks hollowed. She looked up at his helpless face from beneath lashes and a fall of messy gold ringlets. He was devastatingly shattered. Eyes rolling into their sockets. She cupped his balls gently, stroking with her thumb, put her other hand to work twisting the length of cock she couldn't fit down her throat. Her tongue worked the swollen tip of him, knowing it was sensitive. She kept to the edges and underneath.

Soon his grip on her shoulder became more urgent. "Jude!" He panted. "I'm -"

She released him with a loud pop. "Do ya wanna come in my mouth, Timothy? Or do ya wanna fuck me again?"

"Guhhh…" He couldn't even think and she asked _that_? It only seemed to worsen his tenuous grasp on control.

"Hm?" She asked, casually stroking him now. "Or I could just jack you off. I'd love for ya to come in my mouth, though." Her lips dipped again, teasing the tip of him. "I'll swallow like a good girl. Won't spill a drop."

And while that sounded simply celestial, he rather had other ideas to fulfill. "Jude," he growled her name, taking her neck in hand he guided her up against him. "C'mere." On their knees, he turned her.

She needed no further prompting. This was a position familiar to her. One that men loved. She set to brace on her elbows when he gripped her waist. "Here."

"Oh?" He maneuvered her to one of the bed's massive posts. "Oh!" Well that was unexpected. She gripped the post, felt him press against her from behind. Her knees already shook.

"Jude." His breath was hot in her ear. Heavy.

"Yes?" She caught a kiss.

"We are penitent this way." But before she could reply he was inside her. Hard this time. Fast. She nearly lost her balance, and had to grip the bottom bedrail with her other hand. She burned with the way he hammered her. Didn't hold back her cries of passion and neither did he. At times, he sounded like a predatory beast, great paws gripping and ranging over every part of her.

"Join me again, Sister," he grunted. "In prayer."

"I - I can't." She gasped. She couldn't come again. Surprised it had even happened twice now.

"You will." His fingers found out her swollen clit again, and pinched. His mouth wrecked her neck. The wide expanse of his hand at her hip pressed a finger against the pucker of her ass - a threat or a promise.

And despite her self, her sense, her body thrilled to the remote possibility of being conquered in such a way. Invaded. She yelped when the sensation caught up a third time, bent further forward. His hand left her hip to grab her hair, pulling, preventing her from tumbling over the bed but unknowingly setting off a chain of such kinky appreciation and body-wracking convulsions she simply had to scream. "Father!"

For there was forgiveness to be asked. If not from God above, from the ancient gods of lust. Because surely this Promethean fire was never meant to belong to them.

And Timothy was (predictably) the first to beg forgiveness. "Jude. Jude." He whispered against her neck, her shoulders. "I'm so sorry…" His sweat left a shining trail across her supple skin. He licked it. Loved the way it tasted mingled with her own salty secretions.

Jude rested her head against her elbow, still bastioned by bedpost. "I don't know what the hell yar apologizing for, Timothy." She was hoarse. Shot out.

"I've treated you worse than an animal."

"Oh, you _would_ feel guilty about the best sex that ever occurred in metaphysical history." She chuckled, turning to hold him. Her knees gave out and they collapsed into rumpled sheets. "I woulda told ya if ya did anything I didn't like. I promise."

"I never knew it could be so…"

"Phenomenal?" She stroked his hair. "Me, either."

"Rather...primitive," he allowed.

"Maybe next time we can be more docile."

"Never." He growled against her breast. She laughed. "I am...exhausted." He breathed.

"I could hibernate for a few days, myself."

"You'll sleep with me then?"

She smiled. "Yar stuck with me now, I'm afraid." In fact, their amalgamated fluids were congealing on his thigh at that very moment, fusing them like a biological glue. "Not to mention I don't think I could walk right now if I wanted to."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing!" Playfully, she smacked his bare ass. He hissed something like pleasure and she grinned against his lips. "Oh, we are gonna have such a good time, Timothy."

They were settling into sheets when a sharp rap sounded against his door. They froze, eyes wide at each other. "Who?" Jude mouthed. He shook his head.

"Father! It's Frank! You alright in there?"

"Oh, shit," Jude whispered. "Something's happened."

He held a hand for her to wait. She nodded. He blinked into a lengthy terry robe and cracked his door. "Frank. Is everything alright? Mary Eunice? Shelley?"

Jude slipped from the bed, blinked into her own attire. A rather plain black dress. Something that didn't look like she'd just been carnal in.

"Eunice came and got us, Father." Frank continued, still not reconciled to Timothy's being just Timothy. "The lights went out a few times and she said she heard something like animals in ya room here."

"Ah." Timothy floundered.

"And Sister Jude is missing!" Eunice's voice. "She wasn't in her chambers. I checked! And those noises here! I thought the worst for both of you. What if she's been attacked somewhere again? We should look for her all together and -"

Timothy held up a calming hand. "Sister. I assure you -"

"I'm here, Eunice." Jude stepped from behind him, hoping she was presentable.

"Oh, thank God, Sister!" Eunice flung her arms around Jude, who returned the gesture awkwardly. She was fairly certain she reeked of sex, and hoped Eunice wouldn't recognize it. "I was so worried. I was truly -"

"Ho-lee shit." Shelley slipped past Frank into Timothy's doorway. She chuckled lowly, put a hand on Eunice's shoulder. "You're tainting yourself right now, Eunice. Trust me."

"Shelley!" Jude warned, raising a finger. Of all people…

Shelley simply pushed Jude's hand down. "Get that judgey finger outta my face, Judy. I don't want to know where it's been recently." She turned to Timothy. "Right, Saint Casanova?" Timothy looked away guiltily. Shelley looked past him to his bed. "Christ almighty, Judy, you really know how to wreck shop, don't ya?" Jude's lips thinned.

"I think um...I think everything is fine here," Frank assured. He was blushing brightly himself, pulling Shelley into the hallway. "We can all uh...get back to bed. Sleep tight, am I right?"

"Nice and tight." Shelley hissed. She leaned in close to Jude's face. "Interesting. Looks like ghosts _can_ get hickeys." She turned away before Jude could slap her. "I assume we've all gotten on our knees and said our prayers? Swallowed our little...communion wine?"

"Shelley, I'm so pleased you're saying your prayers!" Eunice smiled brightly at her. "But communion wine is -"

"Frank, would you and Shelley make sure Eunice gets back to her chambers safely?" Jude interrupted, closing Timothy's door.

"Sure thing, Judy. Come on now, girls. Everything's fine."

Jude slammed the door and leaned against it. Could hear Shelley singing tunelessly down the hall: "That's the night that the lights went out in Briarcliff!" Her tinny laughter grated.

"Fucking Shelley," Jude muttered.

Timothy leaned against his door just beside her. She was surprised to see him smiling softly. "Were we truly that loud?" He asked.

"I'm sorry!" She hissed. "I didn't design the acoustics in this place."

He kissed her. Hands stroked her sides, gentling her. "Let's...have a nice soak. There's something questionable dried to every inch of me. And then, I think, sleep."

Jude couldn't remember the last time she'd bathed with a man. Had she ever? Maybe drunkenly, she supposed. It was lovely to have someone wash her back, though. Lovely to feel clean again. To feel cherished.

A low hum resided in their bodies now. A satisfied purr. They spoke lowly in the echoing bathroom, aware that these walls were not as sound-proofed as they'd once imagined. "You said you'd talk to Eunice with me, tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'd like to reassure her that she will be supported through whatever awaits her."

"I think...we should address everyone. No secrets. Let us all be on the same page together."

"Sound reasoning." He piled her hair atop her head, released it. It was pretty tumbling down her back. "Breakfast, I suppose?"

She sighed. Let her head fall back against his shoulder. "Yes. Get Shelley's ribbing over with."

She felt rather than heard him laugh. "It's not funny."

"I don't know." He said. "She has a way with words. And…tea towels."

At that, Jude could laugh, too.

They slept well. Like the dead. Coiled together like snakes. She woke him before first light. In the dusky part of morning alien to many. Quietly this time, they made love. Slowed by familiarity and euphoria, still slightly drowsy.

Jude rode him this time, grasping the headboard, pushing against his chest. Her pace increased with his awed hands. "I love your breasts," he murmured, cupping them as they bounced.

"I've noticed. Mmmm." She shifted, needing more contact with his pelvis. He sat up, Indian style, pulled her flush to him. "Oh, yes." There it was. Her face nuzzled his shoulder as he nuzzled her chest. "Tell me to come," she whispered, a whine trying to creep in.

He pressed his lips to her ear. "Come for me, rara avis. Let me feel your sweetness seize me again. _Ista est mea creatura._ " She obeyed, the latin working its magic. He clamped a hand tight over her mouth, stifling her loud moans. " _Ista est mea divinatatem_." She quaked beautifully, tragically, milked him mercilessly and he bit her shoulder to muffle his own growls. They caught their breath in solemn kisses.

They briefly considered going down to breakfast separately, but that seemed highly unnecessary now, considering everyone in the building was aware they were...involved. Except maybe Eunice. Jude wasn't sure Eunice really got the gist of Shelley's innuendos, and that was fine by her. So they hoped that the early morning would be on their side and headed down to the kitchen.

Jude opted for a high collar this morning. It seemed hickeys couldn't be blinked away. Timothy's arm brushed hers as they descended the stairs. The temptation to take his hand was strong, but she resisted it, unwilling to add any further fuel to Shelley's doubtless festering fire.

Unfortunately, their plan for early morning kitchen dominance failed.

Frank and Eunice were on juice duty, as usual. And it seemed Shelley was simply...waiting. By the stove. Smoking. She grinned when the lovers entered sheepishly. "Well, well, well. Had to have one more round this morning, huh?"

"Shelley -" Jude started.

"Judy!" Shelley interrupted. "I have to say you look particularly fabulous this morning. And Tim - nice to have a little color in your cheeks, I bet. And your face is pink, too."

"Shelley, start the scones!" Frank snapped.

"I've started already! I thought Judy might want to help with the sausages since she's back in practice and all."

"Shelley, I'm gonna finish what ya started the first day I got here." Jude stepped toward the stove, fists clenched at her sides.

"Jude, don't." Timothy caught her arm. "Let's just -"

"Yeah, obey thy Father, Judy. I bet ya did last night!"

"Oh, that's it!" Jude jerked free. "Eunice. Go to my office and get me a cane."

Eunice was already on the steps. "Which one, sister?"

"My favorite," Jude growled.

"Yes, sister!"

"No, no, no, Eunice." Now Timothy grabbed Eunice.

"Oooh, Judy, that one was my favorite, too." Shelley was bending over the breakfast table.

"Shelley, get up!" Frank grabbed Shelley.

"Nevermind, Eunice. Get the big one," Jude changed her mind.

"But, sister, the Monsignor says -"

"Get the big one, Eunice!" Laughed Shelley.

"There is no Monsignor anymore!" Jude reminded. "And I'm in charge here!"

Timothy was maneuvering Eunice back into the kitchen. "There will be no canings today, Sister."

"Or was Judy in charge last night, too, Father?" Shelley asked.

Timothy released Eunice. "Go get the cane," he snapped.

Shelley screamed playfully, jolting around the table when Jude came at her with another wooden spoon, determined to give her a taste of her own medicine. Frank spread his arms between the women. "Eunice," he said. "Get over here and wrangle yar boss lady before she stripes Shelley's ass!"

"Move, Frank!" Jude was swatting at Shelley from behind the security guard when Eunice took her arm.

"Sister, let's have a peace in our hearts this morning."

Jude started to calm. Timothy sighed relief. But Shelley would not be stopped. "Judy's already had a piece this morning, Mary Eunice."

"Murder thoughts!" Jude shouted, lunging over the table. She got hold of Shelley's flowy blouse, pulling her into a jar of jam.

"Ow!" Shelley shouted. Rising awkwardly, she flicked jam into Jude's face.

"You bitch!" Jude had crawled onto the table now, managing to wrap Shelley into an awkward choke hold.

"Not the first sticky face you've had, Judy!" Shelley gasped. "And I doubt the last. Lick it off her, Tim!"

Timothy was pulling Jude off the table, Frank trying to pry Shelley out of her grip. Jam was everywhere, making the situation all the more difficult.

"I SAID LET'S HAVE A PEACE IN OUR HEARTS!" Eunice cried suddenly. She clenched her eyes closed, refusing the scene before her, and a humming flash of light froze everyone, momentarily blinding them.

When lighting restored to normal, the group was seated calmly at the table. Sausage and eggs steamed before them. Butter melted on scones. Jam was righted on a pristine white table cloth. A vase of pink roses bobbed delicately, and they all wore Victorian attire. Stared gobsmacked at each other.

Eunice primly sliced open her scone. "Please pass the jam, Shelley." With a slightly shaky hand, Shelley complied. "Thank you." She slathered her scone with the thick strawberry sweetness. "Now. I don't care what...fornications took place last night between whom." But she looked pointedly at Jude and Timothy who blushed. "And I imagine it does provide ample entertainment to the less...sophisticated mind." A pointed look at Shelley. "But there are far more important and even pleasant issues to be discussed over a civilized breakfast amongst adults." She blinked. Pachelbel's _Canon in D Major_ played calmly in the background. "So. We're going to enjoy this delicious repast with no more filth and no more fighting." Her knife dropped loudly onto her plate and her lovely face hardened. "Or I swear I will personally practice my own caning skills on every ass present at this table. And I assure you - I learned from the best. Right, Sister?" She looked at Jude.

Jude stared openly at her once protege, naked admiration on her features, high lace collar tickling her chin. "Thank you, Mary Eunice."

Frank tugged uncomfortably at his own stiff collar.

"Well." Timothy clapped his hands together once. Straightened his cravat. He smiled broadly. "I think this is the start to a successful and productive day."

Shelley moped a little. A grudging smirk. "Look at little sister over here gettin' all big in the britches." She patted Eunice's hand. "I like it."

They'd eaten contentedly for some time when Timothy decided to brooch the subject at hand. "Sister. I find it encouraging to see your display of...refined power this morning. As a matter of fact, Jude and I were discussing it just last evening."

"My power?" Eunice asked. "Is it any different from any of yours?"

"I was...given some information indicating that it is, yes." Jude offered. "And what we actually discussed last night was how we may be able to use it against Dr. Arden. Against the shadows."

"Did you reach any conclusions?"

"We did." Timothy said.

"Multiple conclusions?" Shelley asked, brows raised.

"Conclusions that involve all of us." Jude ignored Shelley's innuendo. "Working together to support Mary Eunice."

Frank, ever a man of action, was quick to volunteer his service. "Little sistah, you know I got ya back no mattah what. What's the plan, exactly?"

"We shall devise that plan together." Timothy answered. "As a team. As each of us has an indelible and unique strength to offer."

"Me?" Shelley gestured to herself and scoffed. "I'd bring everybody down. Never been much of a brain when it comes to plans and stuff like that."

Eunice had been thinking quietly. "No, Shelley. You're very valuable. You're the righteousness. The vengeance. The warrior."

Shelley's eyes widened with each word. "Yeah, Sister?" She grinned. "I like the sound of all that!"

"Frank!" Eunice pointed to the guard. "You're like...Honor. The guardian! The planner. The backbone. The protector."

Frank's chest swelled with pride. "Damn right," he said.

"Sister!" She continued, turning to Jude. "You're…" Jude waited expectantly, excited at the prospect of joining ranks. "Wait." Eunice shook her head. "No. It's...both of you." She cocked her head quizzically at Timothy. "Together."

Timothy leaned forward. "What is it, Sister? What can we offer you? What are we together?"

"It's the most important part," Eunice smiled. She took their hands, placed them atop one another. "You're…the love."

"Perfect love?" Timothy asked. Jude stared at him.

"Oh, Father." Eunice smiled so brightly. "Don't you understand? All love is God's love. All love is perfect."

"And powerful." Jude murmured. "It makes so much sense now."

"All of these things." Eunice stood, pacing. "Honor. Justice. Love. These things are the weapons against evil."

"I get it." Shelley nodded. "The opposites of darkness! So what does that make you, little sister big britches?"

"She's the ultimate weapon against darkness." Jude stated, eyes on Eunice; the young nun's glow was evident in her epiphany. "She's the Light."


	7. Everything's Coming Up Roses

**Chapter Playlist:** ** _Lean on Me -_** **Bill Withers;** ** _Everything's Coming Up Roses -_** **Rosemary Clooney. Forgive the short chapter. Lots of set-up and it gets squishy at the end. But it's necessary squish. One more after this one...**

Everything's Coming Up Roses

"So. The shadows want Arden, but Arden is sealed up in his mole hole tighter than a gnat's ass." Shelley was smoking and thinking. A dangerous pastime for her. "How do we get him to the shadows without the shadows taking us out?"

Victoriana was gone. The group had opted for the clothes that made them feel strongest, most comfortable, Jude standing out in a red flare dress. They'd converted the common room into a war room. The card table was their battle center. In the background, the jukebox lowly serenaded them with Bill Withers' _Lean on Me_ _._ "We have to get him out. Let Eunice lure him somehow," Jude answered. "It's the only way that makes sense."

"But will he come out at all?" Timothy asked. "I encountered the shadows on the basement stairs. Obviously they know he is inside, and he knows they are outside."

"I say we let the little sistah here blow his door open with her Wonder Woman powers," Frank offered. "Then we rush in there Semper Fi. Get shit done."

Jude shook her head. "Not in his territory. He'll be strongest in the basement. That's his fortress. He's strong like we are, but darker. He'll fight hard. I know he will."

"Then why the fuck are we talking about dangling Mary Eunice out in front of him like a piece of tasty salted jerky?" Shelley demanded. "What if his devil powers snuff out her light powers? What if the shadows get her too while they're trying to get him?"

"That is why protecting Mary Eunice is pivotal to our success." Timothy firmly tapped the tabletop. "This is non-negotiable."

Jude agreed, nodding. "We can fight off the shadows, giving Mary Eunice time to pull Arden from his grotto."

" _If_ he comes out." Timothy fretted again.

"He'll come." Eunice was decisive. "I just need to figure how to call him. He's connected to me." She was fingering a pink rose, plucking its petals and piling them on the table.

Jude reached over and took a few of the petals, intrigued. "What do you mean, Eunice?"

"He died with me." She explained softly. "In the crematorium. When he put me in, he went in with me."

"You were _cremated_?" Jude shouted, eyes cutting to Timothy, who looked away guiltily.

Eunice touched her hand. "I was unholy, Sister. Imbued with the devil."

"That's bullshit!" Jude's eyes watered. "Ya cremated her? Timothy…"

"I didn't want to." He was pained. "But she's right, Jude. We could take no chances."

"Oh, Eunice…" Jude stroked the young nun's face. "I'm so sorry."

"I was cremated, as well." Timothy offered, not looking at anyone. "And yet here we all are. Together despite our methods of internment. Obviously, the church has some misconstrued ideologies regarding the soul."

"Amen, Father." Shelley preached.

When Timothy caught Jude's eyes, they watered for him, too. He brought the conversation back to topic. "I feel a direct approach would be best." Absently, he sniffed Mary Eunice's rose. "Lovely," he commented. And then the thought hit him so suddenly, so perfectly it nearly made his head ache. "Sister." His hand reached for Eunice's.

"Yes, Father?"

"How many of these roses do you suppose you could create? At once, I mean."

Eunice's eyes lit at the thought of a million roses littering the floors and walls of Briarcliff. She felt that if she closed her eyes, it would happen so very easily. "How many would you like?"

He stood, paced around the table, fingers stroking the back of Jude's neck when he passed her. "I had a conversation once with Dr. Arden. After...after your passing, Eunice." He stopped with his hands on her shoulders. "About saints. And the smell of roses lingering when they died."

Jude's eyes widened, caught Eunices. "Eunice. We need so many roses that Briarcliff reeks of 'em. That'll get the bastard's attention."

"Exactly." Timothy sat again, leaned forward on the table.

Eunice pursed her lips, thinking. She closed her eyes… The jukebox flared to life first, Rosemary Clooney clear as a bell.

 _Things look swell, things look great_

 _Gotta have the whole world on a plate_

 _Starting here, starting now_

 _Honey, everything's coming up roses_

They startled at the cracking sound, the mild rumble that seemed to shiver Briarcliff's foundations. Rose from their table when the vines - thick, gnarled, woody twisting vines - slithered up through the floor. The tendrils curled along the common room walls, anything they could grip; window bars, the clock, shelves, empty equipment hooks, light fixtures. Ropy arms of green reached to one another, clutched and sprouted, spread dangling buds that burst open in bright flashes of pink, golden centers puffing - maybe hundreds of thousands - of pure, blushing blossoms. They were overwhelming - beautiful to behold.

 _Clear the decks, clear the tracks_

 _We got nothing to do but relax_

 _Blow a kiss, take a bow_

 _Honey, everything's coming up roses_

Shelley threw victorious arms around Eunice. "Sister, this is _amazing_!" And already the smell of roses permeated the common room. Cool and sweet. Petals rained and the group looked up to see pink roses blooming fat and beautiful even on the ceiling, an upside down carpet of green and gold and flower.

 _Now it's your inning_

 _Stand the world on it's ear_

 _Said it's spinning_

 _That'll be just the beginning_

 _Curtain up, light the lights_

 _We got nothing to hit, but the heights_

 _We'll be swell, we'll be great_

 _I can tell, just you wait_

 _The lucky star I talk about is due_

 _Honey, everything's coming up roses_

 _For me and for you_

Eunice smiled hugely in Shelley's arms, sparkling eyes turning to Jude and Timothy, who stood tight together, taking in the new floral ceiling. A rumble turned to rustle and finally to whisper. Roses settled. Petals still softly drifting. "Is this what you had in mind?"

"Eunice…" Tears spilled down Jude's face. She couldn't control the outpouring of emotion; the beauty of the young nun's power, the purity and love, was overwhelming. "This is God's work." She took Eunice's hands and tugged, cupped her face. "I've never been so proud of ya."

Beaming, Eunice turned to see Frank standing quietly to the side, the most quietous expression on his face that any of them had ever seen. "Frank?" She went to him. "Are you alright?"

"Aw, little sistah…" He shrugged. Swallowed hard. "I tell ya this is the prettiest damn thing I've seen since my Claire on her wedding day. She woulda loved this."

Eunice took his face in her hands. "I can't wait for you to be with her again, Frank. Soon now." He nodded.

Shelley was twirling in the fallen petals, her long skirt picking them up and stirring them. "So...we do this to the rest of Briarcliff? Best thing that ever happened to this hellhole."

Eunice looked back to Jude. "Shall I, sister? Now?"

"I say we wait until night." Jude considered. "We know that's when the shadows are most active. We bring them with us, so when Arden comes out, they're ready for him."

"Question." Frank dusted pink petals off the couch and sat. "The shadows. All together, I get we're a righteous team. But. How do we protect ourselves and each other from them? I mean, Jude's a tough cookie, too, and they managed to do a numbah on her. And on the Monsignor ova there." He nodded. "Even togetha, if they want one of us, what's the plan?"

"I've thought about that." Timothy spoke. He plucked a petal from Jude's hair and dropped it into the V of her dress. She tisked, retrieving it. "Something happened the night I...took Jude from them."

She turned to him. "What happened? What do you mean?"

He sat on the couch beside Frank, recalling. "I heard something that night. In the hallway. Scratching and then struggling. When I opened the door, I could barely see you for their forms engulfing you. I felt this incredible sense of power come over me. I couldn't explain it at the time. After feeling so weak and defeated for so long, I thought I was a wasted soul. But…" He tugged at the hem of Jude's dress and she stepped closer to him. "I didn't think. I simply stepped toward them and they seemed to...dissipate. As if they turned to ash and then evaporated. And Jude simply fell into my arms."

Eunice stared at them, approaching intensely. "What did you feel then, father? When you held Jude?"

Both women stared down at him, wondering, expectant. In fact, Shelley leaned over the back of the couch, too, waiting. Even Frank's brow quivered anticipation. "No pressure," Shelley whispered.

He looked up at Jude. "I felt...whole."

"Whole." Eunice murmured. She folded her hands to her lips as if in prayer. "You sought to protect Jude in that moment. To save her."

He nodded. "Yes, I suppose."

"Perhaps those intentions are what strengthened you." Jude offered. "If our intentions are to protect each other…" She threw up her hands. "I don't know."

"Timothy." It was the first time Eunice had ever called him anything other than Father, so she immediately had everyone's attention. "Be honest in your heart in this moment and honest before God and all of us."

His forehead creased. "Of course, Sister."

"Did you love Jude...before now? Despite all that was in your mortal heart and mind and soul. Did you love Jude when she was Sister Jude?" The question was so bold, so bald and filled with meaning. And again, every eye rested on Timothy Howard.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head. He answered slowly, earnestly, but only to one person. "Jude. Do you recall when we first met?"

"Of course I do." She whispered.

"We were at St. Mary's. Your convent. Mother Superior had told me she had the right sister for me. We met in the orchards behind the rectory. I could see you walking with her. The leaves had changed for autumn. Amongst the apples there were Japanese maples. They looked as if they were on fire. I recall thinking you were quite tall. Striking in your bearing. You looked at me with such directness, and those fiery maples made your brown eyes incredibly warm. Like your hands. When you shook mine, you took it in both of yours." Jude's eyes watered. She looked away from him, away from all of them. She felt vulnerable in his voice. "I thought...this nun is an exception. And you were. You know...I nearly refused you. I nearly called the Mother Superior and told her to keep you. To send another. Because I was deathly afraid of what a temptation you could present. Your lips were shaped for kissing, not praying." Jude flushed. Shelley melted into the back of the couch. Eunice took hold of Jude's elbow, eyes searching her sister's face as Timothy continued. "Although you did pray. You prayed and you smiled and you cooked and you supported me and you nurtured... But you terrified me, Jude. So while you built me into what could have been a great man, I built a wall and somehow, like the ice in winter, you slipped into the cracks and swelled them, just constantly chipping away until I…" He shook his head. "I made you into a receptacle for my pride. Proud that I could resist what you represented. Proud that I could wear the worship in your eyes while I undressed you with my own. I blamed you, Jude, for making me weak while the weakness was in myself alone." He paused to breathe. To think. To absorb the fact he'd just bared his soul when all he was now was bare soul.

"Timothy." Jude shook. She rubbed at her arms, clutching herself. Eunice stroked her back.

"Does that answer your question, Sister?" He wanted to know. "Yes, I loved Jude. But I mistook it for something...impure." He'd just realized there were tears on his face. He didn't wipe them away. "If I had known then what I know now…"

"We'd be in Rome now?" Jude asked, a small smile trying to convey to him that she wasn't broken open by his words even though she was. Completely.

But he shook his head. "No. I would have left the church. Left this place." He stood. Jude took a step back from his intensity, but Eunice stopped her. "I should have. I should have taken you with me. Christ, Jude. What did I do to us?"

"Nothing we can't fix." Her voice shook. At Eunice's gentle nudge, she stepped into his arms, wrapped him in hers.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured in her hair.

"Will you evah stop apologizing?" She kissed him. Before God and everyone, she kissed him.

An unexpected sob pulled them apart. They all looked to the couch. To Shelley. "I'm sorry," she sniffed, wiping her face on a bell sleeve. "You were a human, after all, Tim...I think I just forgave you."

Frank rubbed Shelley's head affectionately. "Atta girl," he winked.

"Oh my god," she breathed. "I've never been in love! Does it always suck like that?"

Timothy sat again, reached for her hand. Hesitantly, she gave it to him. "Not if you let it in."

Shelley combated the heaviness of his words with her brevity, as usual. Gave him a playful slap to the face. "Dumb fucker. You coulda been so happy." She winked at Jude. "I'm totally falling in love in Paris. At least fifty times."

Jude smiled, bittersweet. "I have no doubt you will, Shelley." She worried still. "We need a solid plan. For how to approach this situation. Tonight?"

"The sooner the bettah." Frank supplied. "I've got an idea."

Jude pulled a chair from the game table, straddled it. Mary Eunice stood beside her, a soldier for the calling. "Let's hear it, Frank."

"Picture this." Frank spread his hands. "Little Sistah calls up the magic roses. Let's say...9 pm. Nice and dark. Shadows'll be out and about fer sure. We all head to the basement stairs, ready to fight off the baddies. Arm in arm like. We wait for the flower power to lure out the bastard and...I dunno after that. Can't predict what'll happen. And that's what bothers me."

"But I think that plan is solid." Timothy supplied. "And gives us time to rest. To gather our strength. We'll be at our best."

"Eunice." Jude turned to her. "You'll stay behind us. Close. I don't want Arden to get his hands on you."

"So if Eunice is at the back, which lucky son of a bitch gets the front?" Frank asked. "I volunteer."

"No." Jude was firm. "I'll lead us down. I want him to see my face before any of yars. I want him to know who's coming far him."

"Jude..." Timothy vacillated. She gave him a no-argument glare and he nodded reluctantly. "As you wish."

"So..." Shelley piped up. "Shit. What happens after? Say after we kick the Nazi's ass - which we will - what happens after that?"

A silence descended. The group considered. Jude, seeing no answer forthcoming, spoke decisively. "Doesn't mattah. We've done our work. The dirty work. I guess then we...wait for further orders?" Truthfully, she wondered as well. After all, there had been no clear instruction. Not really. Even for herself.

Shelley had her own ideas to share. "I'll tell ya this. After Arden gets his ass handed to him? I'm outta here. It's been nice getting to know all of you. Judy...I'll be honest. You've been a fucking revelation to me. And Eunice. I admire you. You are truly some kinda avenging angel." She softly stroked Frank's shoulder. "Frank. You've been the dad I never had. Treated me with respect. Cared for me. And that - that's once in a lifetime." Frank put his hand atop Shelley's, nodding sagely. She sighed, almost as if she dreaded her next statement. "Tim. You fucking piece of shit...thanks for coming out as the dark horse in this race. You taught me something real important. To grab love by the horns. I'm gonna keep you in mind every pretty boy I fuck in Paris. Well...in the back of my mind, maybe. And I'm gonna try to fall in love."

Timothy looked alternately flattered and troubled by this statement. "Thank you? Shelley."

"What Shelley says is very important." Eunice said quietly. "We have all worked hard to forgive one another. To value each other in our own ways. It's how we've come to be the team we are now. What comes after is...secondary, I suppose."

Jude rested her chin on the back of her chair, staring at nothing. "I suppose after we each achieve our peace...there's no reason left for us to be here."

The reality set in heavily. Harshly. Frank answered it with politic politeness. "I'll just be proud ta say...I did something good. With folks I care about." He nodded with finality.

Jude reached for his hand, clasped it hard. "Me, too, Frank. Me too."

Eunice took a deep breath. "I think...I feel...that we should rest. Pray. Come into our greatest strengths. And tonight? Dinner together. As it should be." She touched Jude's shoulder. "If you'll cook for us, sister? Bless us with your gift?"

"I'd love to, little sister." Jude grasped the hand. "Any requests?"

"Coq-au-vin." Timothy caught her eyes with his own. "I never felt stronger, personally."

She grinned at him. "If you'll help me this time."

"We will all help." Eunice answered. "Tonight? We cook together. We eat together. We are strong together."

"Sounds like a plan." Frank said. He stretched. "Meanwhile, I could take a fuckin' nap like a right bastard. Shelley? You wanna have a snoring contest?"

Shelley laughed richly. "You mean like every night we've spent together, old man? Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

"Dinner, then." Jude nodded. "At six. All of us together. Maybe far the last time."

Small smiles. Maybe regretful. Maybe hopeful. "Yes, Sister." Eunice tucked a pink rose behind Jude's ear. "Maybe for the last time."

Frank and Shelley left the common room, Shelley leaning on her father figure's shoulder. Jude watched them go, eyes moist. She looked to Eunice. "And you, little sister? You gonna rest up?"

Eunice's eyes were closed. She sighed. "I'm...already rested, I think. I need to pray. Jude?"

"Yes?"

"I love you." Such simple words.

Jude stood. She felt no embarrassment in her tears. "Eunice. Little sistah." The two fit together like puzzle pieces. "I love you, too."

"Go." Eunice murmured into her shoulder. "You two. Your greatest strength is in each other. Find it."

Timothy stood. Took their hands. "Sister. Jude. Pray with me now. For Eunice's strength. For our own." They clasped naturally, versed in the ways of the church.

"Shhh." Eunice whispered. "Pray in your own ways." She pushed their hands together, a pile of fingers interwoven. Their heads bowed, touching. But Jude found not a saint's prayer appropriate. No Our Fathers. No Hail Marys. She could only pray from her heart. Could only feel love in her heart. The heat from Eunice's and Timothy's hands bleeding up her arms, filling her chest. And she felt just barely Eunice's hands sliding from her own. When she raised her eyes curiously, Eunice was gone.

"Jude."

She met Timothy's glistening eyes. "Since the first day we met?" She asked, voice cracking.

He touched her face. "Since then. Yes."

She tugged the hand from her face. "Come on." Tugged him with her from the common room. They climbed the stairs together wordlessly, his hands already encompassing her waist. His rooms were closest. Unspoken, they entered. Unspoken, they undressed each other. Unspoken, they climbed into his bed

They'd long surpassed lust. And they didn't speak until they were making love. Moving with and inside one another, their tongues loosened. "Jude. What will happen to us? After we defeat Arden?"

"I don't know." Her voice strained, pleasure threading it. She clutched him tightly.

"I can't lose you."

"You won't."

"Promise me." He held her head steady in both hands, forcing her half-closed eyes to meet his. "Promise me." Slowed his thrusts.

"Mmmm." Her pelvis encouraged his to resume his speed. "I can't promise…"

"Promise."

"Timothy!" She arched her neck. "Please!"

"Promise me. And I'll give you what you want." He nuzzled her neck, her ear, keeping just enough distance between their joined bodies to torture.

"Oh, Hell! I promise! I promise!" He groaned, fucking her in earnest. They came in tandem, her nails gouging his shoulders. The pain spurred his pleasure, his spill. Her legs wrapped him like prayers. Calming, catching breath, she touched his face and noticed a streak of blood. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I scratched ya." Without thinking, she licked the little blood from her fingertips.

Timothy's brows rose. He kissed the licked fingertips. "I didn't notice."

"You know I can't promise you anything, Timothy." There was sadness in her eyes.

"You always kept your word, Jude. Unlike me." He thumbed a drop of sweat from her hairline. "You'll keep it this time."

She sighed, wriggling away from him. Wrapped a sheet around her shoulders and made for the bathroom. In the doorway, she turned to smile at him. "I'll try."

She closed the door behind her, needed a moment. Tears threatened. She turned on the bathtub, letting it fill loudly to cover her sobs. She crouched beside the clawfoot, hand tight over her mouth lest he should hear her. Her body curled, ribs caving in on the emotion.

"Now, why are you crying?"

She looked up, gasping, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "Pepper!"

The pinhead perched on the edge of the tub, forehead creased. "What's wrong? You're nearly there now. There should be no doubts, Jude."

She grasped Pepper's hands. "What happens?" She choked. "After it's done, what happens?"

"You know what happens." Pepper shrugged. "Back to your peace. What you wanted."

"What happens to them?" She asked desperately. "To Eunice and Frank and Shelley and…" Her voice failed and she crumbled again. "To him."

"They've made their choices already. All they have to do is let go. And they will. They're ready."

"But what if...what if I can't let go?"

Pepper smiled. "Let go of what exactly?"

"Fuck you, Pepper." Jude stood, whisking sheet around her, hissing anger. "You told me to this and I did. And now…"

"Now?"

"Now I'm…" A frustrated hand through tousled hair. "Now I'm done far. In love." She moved around the bath. "Goddamit. Always was. He made me promise -"

"You were under duress."

Jude blushed hotly. "I don't wanna lose him." Sat on the tub rim facing Pepper. "What if -"

"Follow your heart, Jude." Pepper placed a kind hand on her cheek, caressed it. "And he'll follow his."

"Pepper."

"What?"

"Will we be all right?"

"You're already dead. What's the worst that can happen?" Pepper slid from the tub. "Your bath is ready." She flapped the hot water, inviting. Jude stared at her. "Come ooonnn. Don't be shy. Let's see that rockin' body."

Jude rolled her eyes. But she dropped the sheet and stepped into the hot water. After she settled, she felt Pepper's hands on her head. "You've done so well, Jude. You all have. The end of your journey is near, and you'll all be rewarded accordingly. Trust me. Just remember one thing."

It was an important thing. Jude could feel it in Pepper's touch. "What?"

"Don't be afraid."

But the words alone struck a cold fear and Jude reached for Pepper's hands. Only to find them gone. She turned, sloshing bath water. She was alone in the bathroom. "Dammit!"

The door opened and Timothy entered, wearing just his trousers. "What's wrong?"

"Fargot the soap."

He reached the tray above her head, handed her the soap and a flannel. "Have you been crying?"

"No! Water's just hot is all."

"Jude -"

"Get in and wash my back." He didn't argue. His touch felt like heaven and held her tears at bay. She put tonight, and whatever came after, into God's hands.


	8. Dream a Little Dream

Dream a Little Dream

 _ **Dream a Little Dream -**_ **Ella Fitzgerald. Please welcome a special guest in this chapter - and forgive my atrocious German (again).**

Dinner that evening turned into a sort of potluck. It seemed every member of the team was keen to participate - to cook - to offer up a part of themselves in joy. Shelley insisted on making a pie, taking over the baking station in a floury mess. Soon enough, nearly every ass in the room had a floured handprint on it, including Eunice's - much to the young nun's chagrin.

Frank had baked beans in the oven. "Ya can't have a family reunion without baked beans," he reported matter of factly.

"We're all gonna be regretting your baked beans when we have the farts later, old man."

"Dammit, Shelley!" Frank reprimanded. "Farts aren't appropriate for dinner conversation."

"Better than most of her other dinner topics," Eunice offered. She was whipping cream in a copper bowl.

Timothy and Jude were working intently at the stove together, every burner alight with a different pan. Coq-au-vin was a multitasking dish in the highest. Jude swayed and sang along with the stereo. Occasionally, they switched places, moving smoothly as though dancing.

 _Stars shining bright above you_

 _Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"_

 _Birds singing in the sycamore trees_

 _Dream a little dream of me_

 _Say nighty-night and kiss me_

 _Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me_

 _While I'm alone and blue as can be_

 _Dream a little dream of me_

 _Stars fading but I linger on dear_

 _Still craving your kiss_

 _I'm longing to linger till dawn dear_

 _Just saying this_

 _Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you_

 _Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you_

 _But in your dreams whatever they be_

 _Dream a little dream of me_

 _Stars fading but I linger on dear_

 _Still craving your kiss_

 _I'm longing to linger till dawn dear_

 _Just saying this_

 _Sweet dreams, till sunbeams find you_

 _Gotta keep dreaming leave all worries behind you_

 _But in your dreams whatever they be_

 _You gotta make me a promise, promise to me_

 _You'll dream, dream a little of me_

No one spoke of the impending battle. It was avoided in favor of this: this friendship they'd forged in forgiveness. The simple joys they'd cultivated in each other.

"I hope your fart casserole is ready, Frank." Shelley presented her beautifully woven cherry pie. "Because this masterpiece is ready to bake!"

Frank gave the pie a low whistle of appreciation. "That's nice, Shelley. I tell ya what: as soon as the master chefs are done over there, I'll take my beans out."

"I'm on it!" Jude flicked open the stove, swiftly exchanging hot beans for basted pie. "Oh, nice job, Shelley. She's almost too pretty to eat!"

"Yeah, that's what _he_ said!" Shelley laughed, nudging Timothy none too gently. "Right, Tim?"

"See?!" Eunice pointed her whisk accusingly at Shelley. She tisked. "So disgusting."

"Shelley." Timothy produced the match Jude requested. "Paris may not be ready for you."

"Stand back." Jude touched match to copper pan and a brief flash of blue flame engulfed chicken. "Nearly done."

Shelley leaned dreamily on the counter beside him. "You know. I'm just gonna wander around for a while when I get there. Just take in the whole city. Let it kind of swell up inside me like a feeling."

"That's what _she_ said." Eunice murmured.

This brought a hearty laugh from the whole group. "Little sister big britches over here!" Shelley smiled. "What's in store for you, I wonder." She sobered. "These...great things you're chosen for. Are you scared?"

It was the first mention all evening of their futures. Their possibilities. The entire group looked to Eunice, who shrugged. "No. I trust God has a plan for me." She checked the consistency of her cream and went back to whisking. "Just like all of you."

"Well." Frank didn't like discussing the futures. The planner was uncomfortable with uncertainty. "My plan is to set a nice table, eh?" A blink and a Blue Willow setting later, the group was serving dinner.

Chicken, potatoes, beans and bread made way around the table. Plates filled like hearts. Once everyone was settled, they paused. Something was...expected. "Who shall pray?" Timothy asked.

Jude looked around the table. She'd come to love these faces. And now, the faces seemed so solemn. So unsure. Eyes drifted from one to the other, all thinking the same as her, she knew. "Shelley," she snapped. "Say the blessin'." Timothy and Frank shared a small shocked gasp.

"Are you off your nut?" Shelley demanded.

Eunice reached for Shelley's hand, patted it reassuringly. "I'm sure you'll say a lovely blessing, Shelley." But she cut disbelieving eyes at Jude. "Are you crazy?" She mouthed.

But Shelley took in their doubt and disbelief as a challenge. "Fine!" Her jaw tightened determinedly. "Join hands or whatever." They did, somewhat awkwardly. Frank looked very worried and Eunice's eyes were squeezed tightly closed. She might have been wishing for a decent blessing. Shelley cleared her throat, closing her own eyes, but peeked. "Bow your fuckin' heads already!" They bowed. "Okay." She bowed, too. "Dear God. Um. Hey! This is like...my first official prayer so...don't be judgey." Jude bit her lips. Shelley continued. "We're all gathered here to eat and...we're thankful for the food. And um...I guess...we're thankful for each other. Even Tim, who's proving himself to be less and less of a giant douchebag." Timothy sighed heavily. "And we need you to watch over us tonight when we kick Nazi ass. Especially our little sister Eunice. Even though her britches have gotten so big she needs a belt now. And ya know…whatever big plans you have for her better be really nice is all I'm sayin'. Also make sure Frank gets home to his old lady tonight, yeah? And...keep Judy gettin' laid on the regular. It makes her a much more tolerable person." A suffering moan from Jude. "I guess...that's about it. I don't think I need to ask for anything for me since...you brought Jude here to help us. I musta done something to make you think I deserved some kind of salvation. That all of us do. So. Yeah. Thanks for that, too. Oh! Aaaaand protect us from all the no doubt staggering and powerful gas that Frank's fucking beans are bound to produce. Um. Amen?"

Hands were never released more quickly. Sour faces came to terms with the delivery. Eunice smiled. "Amen," she echoed primly.

"Thanks, Shelley." Jude groused.

Timothy may have been fighting a grin. "Let's eat!"

Here, they stood on no ceremony. Tackled their meal with true gusto. "Holy shit, Judy." Shelley moaned. "This chicken is magical."

"Truly." Tim agreed. "As always."

"Thank you." Jude accepted the compliment smoothly. "As are these beans, Frank. You were right."

"Always room fer beans." Frank nodded.

"They really compliment the chicken." Eunice considered. "But. I'm really looking forward to hot pie and sweet cream."

"That's what _he_ said." It slipped from Timothy's lips completely unbidden, stunning the table into silence - then a burst of loud guffaws. "I have no idea why I said that," he confessed, blushing hotly.

"I'm rubbin' off on you, Father!" Shelley winked.

"That's what _I_ said!" Jude shouted, pointing at Shelley. Amidst the laughter - and Timothy's blushing face - the two shared a high five. They ate and ribbed each other. Laughed like family. This group of souls who could not have been more different, made same by circumstance, and saved by friendship.

Shelley's pie was retrieved from the oven with great celebration, and Mary eagerly dipped cream onto every warm slice. Dessert brought even more joviality. Sweets making tongues much sweeter.

"What's gonna happen when I'm lookin' fer a hot game of Monopoly?" Frank asked, elbowing Shelley. "I gotta go ta France and find ya?"

"Guess so, old man." Shelley rested her head on his shoulder. "I'll hand you your ass under the Eiffel Tower! Eunice? Where's that cream? Just hand me the bowl, will ya?"

Eunice rolled her eyes, engaged Shelley in a minor tug of war over the copper bowl. Jude was smiling at the two, Timothy's fingers stroking her elbow, when something caught her attention in the kitchen doorway. She blinked, uncertain. "Pepper?"

All eyes turned to Jude curiously. "On your pie, Judy?" Shelley tisked. "Sounds weird, but whatever." She offered Jude the pepper shaker.

But Jude stood slowly, followed by Timothy. The group followed their surprised gazes. "Pepper!" Eunice breathed.

Pepper smiled and raised a shy hand to the group.

"Oh, _that_ Pepper!" Shelley made to approach the familiar Pinhead, slowed to a halt when a tall form filled the door behind her. "Um…"

"I brought a friend." Pepper glanced back and up at the imposing woman. "She can help you tonight."

Jude was swift around the table, followed by Eunice, their faces curious and slightly stunned. "Who…"

She could only be described as...statuesque. Tall in heels and domineering in a stark white men's suit - cut to fit a fit form. A matching fedora cocked over a head of set, blonde curls. She wore a smirk like armor on a face like Jude's. "Guten abend, liebespaare." Her voice was exotic honey.

Jude stared unapologetically at this doppelganger, only glancing away to Pepper who was snickering quietly. "Pepper…"

"This is Fraulein Elsa," she explained.

"Please." Elsa stepped into the kitchen as comfortably as if she owned it. "Forgive this intrusion on your delicious dinner." She stopped near the table, winking at Shelley. "Rude of us, no?"

Shelley was slightly captivated, looking from the stranger to Jude. "Um...want some pie? I made it."

At this, Elsa laughed richly. "I would love some pie, darling!" She caressed Shelley's cheek. "How kind of you to offer." She sat. Completely at home. "Pepper. Come have some pie with your friends." Her eyes caught Jude's. "I'm certain they have...questions."

Frank leaned rather closely to the encroacher. "Hey, Judy...you got a sister?"

"No." Jude sat, watching Pepper plate the last two slices of pie. Eunice happily dolloped cream on top as if strange twins appeared out of the blue every day. "Who are you?" Jude needed more solid answers. As usual.

"A friend. As Pepper said." Elsa gestured airily. Ate pie. "Mmm. Wunderbar!" She winked at Shelley. "As sweet as your rosie cheeks, liebechen."

"Thanks?" Shelley straddled a chair at the head of the table.

Frank shifted, simply rearranging his studious stare. He tisked. "Judy. You _sure_ you don't got a sister?"

"I'm sure, Frank." Jude insisted firmly. "Why…" She blew air through her lips, too gobsmacked to really formulate questions. "Why are you here?"

"And where are you from?" Timothy added, standing behind Jude.

Elsa licked the back of her fork, leaning toward Pepper. "These are the lovebirds?" She gestured to Jude and Timothy. Pepper nodded. "Hmph. Cut from the same cloth, they are." A deep, throaty chuckle at the couples' discomfited glance. But she capitulated, sighing before her explanation. "I'm from...everywhere, really. Too much travel. But that's show business, eh?" Leisurely, she withdrew a pack of cigarettes from an inside pocket. Lit two at once, and passed one to Jude. The two women's matching eyes narrowed as they smoked. All other eyes rested on them. "As for why I am here…" A graceful shrug. "We have a mutual acquaintance. A shared enemy."

"Arden." Jude said.

"Gruper." Elsa spat. "You know his real name."

"Another one for the Kick Nazi Ass club!" Shelley leaned on the table now, clearly smitten. "I like this."

"I am here as an ambassador to the poor souls you call 'shadows.'" Elsa continued. "Unfortunately, I cannot do to Gruper what I would most like to do to Gruper...but I can at least make your way to him less...challenging."

Jude smiled, flicking ashes onto an empty pie plate. "German." She nodded. "But language isn't the only connection, is it?"

"You were right, Pepper." Elsa patted the pinhead affectionately. "This one is very perceptive."

"I told you!" Pepper enthused happily.

"You did _not_ tell me she was so staggeringly beautiful." A sly grin. "But you are right, schwester. The shadows are Gruper's victims. There were many of them. Yes, liebling?" She addressed Shelley. "Like me and you. Wings clipped."

"He more than clipped my wings," Shelley whispered.

Sympathy softened the performer's features. "It's time for his soul to go where it belongs. And…" A sweeping gesture. "All of you, as well, no?" Nods around the table agreed with the graceful performer. "Well, then." Her gaze leveled at Jude. "What is your plan?"

Jude rehashed. Set out their strategy simply. Elsa listened with raised brows, coming to admire the motley group of vengeful souls. "What a family you've made together." She commented. "Much like my own. Each so different, yet united. Hmph." A smile. "No wonder Pepper has such a soft spot." She stroked Pepper's smiling head, and stamped out her cigarette. "So. Shall we?"

Silence. Glances about. The group stood slowly. Timothy placed hands on Jude's shoulders. "I suppose it's time," she said, smiling a reassuring if faltering smile. "Are we ready?"

"I'm ready." Eunice dusted pie crumbs from her habit. "Shall I make roses?"

"Everywhere, Eunice." Jude stroked her protege's chin. "Do what you do best."

Elsa watched curiously as Eunice left the kitchen. They all followed close behind her. Through the common room - through memories of dancing and games and joy in darkness. In Briarcliff's entrance, dim, dark and foreboding, she paused. Her family waited, knowing her power. Eunice's eyes fluttered. She barely closed them now, her calling so strong, so passionate.

Again, the firmament rocked, rustled. Gnarly vines thickened, wooded as they split walls and clung to every corner. Buds broke through every broken pane, every grating , unfurling giant pink blooms. Petals burst and fluttered down, raining peace.

Jude felt an arm curl through her own. Turning, she saw Elsa smiling. "Wunderschönen," she murmured. "Like you, darling." She stroked Jude's jaw.

"Who the hell are you?" Jude whispered.

Elsa chuckled. "Later," she winked. Tossed a handful of pink petals into the air.

Eunice walked past the two women, taking Jude's hand. "Now," she said.

Jude nodded, stepping to the front of the group. "Basement." She gestured. "Let's go." Timothy took step beside her. Frank and Shelley behind. Eunice brought up the rear, occasionally glancing to a bare wall, gracing every surface with foliage.

Elsa lingered behind, watching the group before moving slowly to follow. "Pepper? Your friends are incredibly brave."

Pepper rubbed her head against Elsa's ribs, hugging her waist. "Or incredibly stupid."

Elsa's laugh rang amidst the petals. "Or that, darling. Or that."

Cell doors bulged and pushed open along the corridor, devastated by vining, twining roses. Cots were overturned, mattresses pitched at all angles. Moonlight pierced walls cracked by thick thorny branches. Roses seemed to crumble Briarcliff, determined to pull it to the ground.

Nearing the basement stairs, Jude held out a hand and Timothy wrapped her in his arms. Through the woody vines, shadows slithered. More than they had ever seen, the night darkened corridor had darkened further with their blackness.

"Christ, there are so many of them!" Shelley gasped. "Frank?"

"It's alright, Shelley." Frank's flashlight cut through the black parade, sent the shadow figures swirling, crossing arms across their charred faces. But they still closed in.

Shelley squealed and kicked out when a singed hand brushed her skirt. "Fuck off!" She snapped.

Jude whirled at the curse, protected by Timothy's tense body, and caught Elsa's eyes over Eunice's ducked head. The performer smirked at her, seeming in no hurry to help, but spoke calmly: "Halt, freunde! Wir sind hier, um dich zu befreien!"

The shadows, thick now as thieves closing in on Jude and Timothy's crouched forms, froze, turned to the familiar tongue. Elsa stepped fearlessly amongst them, into the writhing mass of ashy hate. "Lass diese Soldaten in Ruhe." Boldly, she took a shadow's face in her hands, caressing the crisp skin, flaking it lovingly. "Sie sind deine Familie, so wie ich bin. Unser gemeinsamer Feind gehört ihnen. Und sie...habe die Macht, ihn in die Hölle zu euch allen zum Himmel."

The shadows calmed. Retracted. Elsa chuckled as they gathered around her. No threat. She stroked them, gripped hands one by one. Pepper smiled up at her. "Go on." Elsa addressed Jude past the wonderous faces of her compatriots. "They will wait here with me. And then, they will take Gruper with them."

"We'll deliver him." Jude reached across her compatriots. They parted for her arm. "Thank you," she said, voice thick.

Elsa reached, too, took the extended hand. "Auf wiedersehen, Sister. And good luck."

Petals fell as they descended stairs, unencumbered by shadows. A bell light flickered ominously above the metal door below, swinging just slightly as rose branches clutched at it. The door seemed to bulge of its own accord, branches inside pushing against the iron, looking like fingers trying escape. At the third step, the door screeched, opening, and Jude froze. Timothy's fingers curled around her waist. "Here we go," she whispered. "Eunice? Hang back."

Eunice nodded, understanding. Her human shield moved toward the door.

Arden - Gruper - could not have been more oddly intimidating. A lanky skeleton of a man, pale skin stretched taut over unhealthily protruding bones. He looked like one of his victims. Eyes sunk into a gaunt face. But the eyes were black as the shadows, if more empty.

His cracked voice was disused. "What the Hell is happening?" It asked. He shielded his eyes against the swaying light, rose petals dusting his shoulders.

"Hell, indeed," Jude spoke. Anger quivered in her throat. Seeing this man again...stirred a fury.

Perhaps he made her out for the first time. Or perhaps he recognized her voice. "Sister Jude?" He blinked, accustoming to the light. Blew at a rose petal.

"Not anymore, Hans."

Arden chuckled. "Ah, yes. Now I recall. Stripped of that title, weren't you?" He glanced about. "By none other than our Holy Father, here. Hello, Father Howard."

Timothy's nostrils flared. "Arthur. It's time for you to leave this place. To go to your fate."

"Planning to exorcise me, Father? I recall it never working for you before." He gestured. "Or maybe you'll let your ex-nun fight the battle for you. Still warring against the patriarchy, Jude."

"Still looking for a decent haberdasher, Arthur."

"Ouch." He flicked a gaze to the faces behind her. "What a sad lot you've brought to help you today. A slut. A rent-a-cop. And surprise, surprise." The gaze dropped to Timothy's hand, holding Jude's wrist. "How does it feel, Father? Fucking the woman you broke?"

"How dare you!" Timothy stepped forward quickly, covering the bottom two steps in an instant. His hands were hard and powerful against Arden's chest, shoving the doctor backward into his office.

"No!" Jude shouted, grabbing at Timothy. She stumbled on the step, caught by Shelley.

Arthur whirled the priest into his office, easily flinging him across the room. Timothy slammed into the massive desk, turning immediately. "Jude!" He cried.

Arthur whirled just in time to see Jude upon him, hands wrapping his neck. "Go to hell!" She cried.

"Make me!" His fingers, spindly knives, wrapped her throat in return. But Jude refused to give up her grip.

Timothy launched himself again at the mad doctor, swinging a solid blow against the side of his head. "Let her go!"

Arthur barely stumbled, not loosing his grip on Jude, eyes bulging slightly from her determined hold. But the motion upset her grip. Arden shoved her into Timothy, sent the two of them reeling backwards.

A blinding flash of light caught him unawares. He railed, throwing up arms and screaming a furious wail. "Now, Shelley!" Frank cried, keeping his flashlight leveled on the doctor.

The tears on Shelley's face were of rage. She held two scalpels, retrieved from Arden's desk. "Time to clip your wings, motherfucker." With his arms raised, he couldn't defend. Shelley sank the blades deeply into his shoulderblades, dragging them down his back with a shredding ease. Arthur's wail deepened, demonic. His chest swelled as if it might burst before he turned toward the ex-patient, scalpels protruding from his lower back and blood spreading like wings.

"Stupid little slut," he spat. "You can't kill me like a human!"

"Think I don't know that?" Shelley asked, something like pure joy on her face. "I'm just here to help send your soul where it belongs." She punched him squarely mid-face. The punch may have been a weak, mortal one were it not for the fact her hand gripped a massive brass paperweight. A satisfying crack was music to her ears.

Arden staggered backward, falling with a painful groan on the two scalpels still in his back. "Jesus Christ!" He cried.

"He won't help you, Gruper." It was Jude who straddled the Nazi's chest, plastering him back to the floor. The scalpels scraped against concrete sickeningly. "You're praying to the wrong master."

"I'm still my own master, you bitch!" He spat blood into Jude's face and swung hard. But his fist was stopped by another.

"Not true, Arthur." Timothy's grip was surprisingly strong, nearly breaking the skeletal fingers. "You've a new master to meet."

"I'll send all of your damned souls to hell before you'll defeat me!" Arthur laughed darkly. "You'll never know the power I've harnessed." His free hand fired to Jude's head, knocking her nearly senseless. He gripped her hair, pulling her face to his. "Let me demonstrate," he hissed.

Jude shouted at the pain, at the weakness she felt beneath his hand. But he threw her with such ease, taking Timothy's knee out with her limp body. "Jude." Timothy crumpled over his lover, pulling her to him, ready to cover her body with his own as Arthur rose unsteadily.

Frank's foot in Arden's back changed his course of attack. "Sit down, you Nazi piece of shit," Frank murmured. "Yer done here."

Shelley stepped behind Frank, brandishing a bone saw. "Look what I found," she chirped. "I can't wait to try it out."

Arthur rose to his feet, crouched like a caged animal. "You're all so sadly deluded." He spun on Timothy and Jude. "All sweetness and light, eh, Father?" Timothy cradled Jude to his chest. "You know what she was, right? Did the demon tell you that when it took your precious virginity? When it took hers?" It wasn't Jude he referred to. Timothy knew that. "You let it have her. The most perfect creature that ever existed. You gave her to it because you were too much of a coward to save her. Too weak! So weak you had to kill her!" Frank raised his flashlight. Shelley raised her saw. He whirled back toward them. "Fools! You can't destroy me! Don't you understand that? We're already doomed!"

"Arthur?"

Such a meek voice. Melodic. The bloody, broken man turned toward it. Moved onto his knees. He blinked blood from his eyes, disbelieving. "Little Sister?"

Eunice knelt beside Timothy and Jude first, checking her friends. Seeing Jude coming around, she smiled at Arden. "Yes, Arthur. You didn't forget me, did you?"

"Of course not." Some sick worship passed through his cloudy, black eyes. He scrambled toward the little nun, clutching at the hem of her habit.

Shelley and Frank tensed, ready to attack, but Eunice froze them with a raised hand. "You were a very bad man, Arthur."

"I loved you!" He wept. "You were everything that was good. Everything that was pure! You could have saved my damned soul!"

"No, I couldn't, Arthur." Eunice cupped his chin, blood sticky on her delicate fingers. "You never let me in. Never asked forgiveness. Never ceased torturing innocent souls around were evil! You never changed."

"I wanted to!" Desperately, he climbed her, using her habit as a grip. "But - but _you_ changed!"

Eunice grinned. It was an odd expression on her consistently peaceful face. "I was possessed, Arthur. What was your excuse?"

"Save me now!" He held her head in his hands.

Jude rose at the sight, steadying against Timothy. "Eunice," she breathed. A warning.

But Eunice ignored the warning. "I'll save you, Arthur." She took his hands in hers, folded them as if in prayer, and kissed them. "You just have to come with me, now."

"Where?" He asked, eyes taking in her compatriots closing in on him.

"It doesn't matter." Eunice tugged gently at his hands. "It's me, Arthur. Just...come."

As if hypnotized, he stepped - slowly - toward her. Let her lead him to the office door. To the bottom step. To the second step. Up.

Jude, Timothy, Shelley and Frank closed ranks behind him, ready to prevent him fleeing back to the office. Ready to push him into the arms of the shadows.

Arthur followed Eunice to the top step. He stared captivated into her eyes. Roses dropped and wilted as he passed them, shrivelling on their vines. And then, he saw the shadows.

Or did he feel them? Their vengeance closing in like a flood, ready to smother him. Realizing he'd been tricked, he rage wailed again. Spinning Eunice around on the steps. "No!" He cried. "Not you!" And whether he spoke to Eunice or the shadows, no one would know. He sent the young nun crashing down the stairs into the arms of her friends while the arms of his victims began to swallow him up.

Jude caught hold of Mary, holding her tightly. "Eunice…" she whispered. She was weak from the fight, lightheaded and hurting.

"Jude." Eunice's fingers stroked her face. "You were wonderful."

Arden's screams comprised the soundtrack to their victory. Eyes and mouths wide, they watched him crumple beneath a mass of charred arms, never able to free himself from their black grasp. They seemed to sink as one mass into the floor of Briarcliff. And as they sunk, revealed behind the mass - Elsa Mars and Pepper smiled on.

Fingers slipped into Gruper's mouth, making his last cries into gurgles. Jude watched his head disappear in black. She felt Timothy's arms surround her. And perhaps Shelley's and Frank's arms as well. She felt Eunice's fingers still stroking her face. She heard screams fade into a tinny, distant purr. Her vision blurred. Fingers gripped Timothy's shirt as she slid down his body.

"Jude!" She vaguely heard him calling her name. Vaguely felt him gripping her arms. But she was slipping still. "Jude!"

"I...I love you…"

Her voice melted into the sound of her blood pumping in her veins, filling her head. Soon all was black as the shadows…


	9. Epilogue: Feathers

Epilogue: Feathers

She woke to the sounds of birds chirping and water moving over stone. A waterfall. To the smells of clean forest dirt. Her blurry vision cleared, making green light into leaves and sunlight peaking through them. She blinked back to clarity, rising up on her elbows.

She was on the jetty near her cabin. Overlooking the grotto where she swam. Near her left hand, a cardinal flitted, chirping curiously. Jude groaned, rising onto her palms. Looking down, she found herself in her favored white sundress and flats, feathers in her lap and on her legs. "What…" she murmured softly.

Downy white feathers swirled around her head. She saw one light on a golden curl and blew at it. Had it all been a dream? Surely not. Tears threatened. Briarcliff? Timothy? Shachath? "Eunice?" She whimpered.

"What?"

"What?" Her head whipped to the voice. "Oh!" She startled at the face near hers. "Eu- Eunice?"

"Whaaaat?" Eunice repeated. Her smile was bright. So beautiful. Golden hair coifed neatly beneath a feathered white fascinator.

"What are you doing here?" The little sister helped her rise. "Oh my God!" Jude's hand covered her mouth when she saw Mary in full. "Oh, Eunice!" Jude's tears spilled and Eunice smiled even wider.

"Do you like them?" She fluffed the voluminous white wings proudly. "I'm still getting used to them."

"Eunice…" It was all Jude could manage. Hesitantly, her fingertips stroked the edges of the silken wings. "They're beautiful. Oh, Eunice!" She pulled the girl into her arms, wings folding over her elbows and then around her. She was enfolded in purity. There could be no doubt. Aside from the pristine wings, Eunice wore a flared white skirt and pin-neat blouse, striped satin. Her white kitten heels seemed out of place in this forest. "You're an angel!" Jude breathed, captivated.

The angel just snickered. "I know! Isn't that crazy?"

"No." Jude drew back, tracing Eunice's features. "No. No surprise at all. You were always my angel."

"Oh, Sister." Eunice let her forehead fall against Jude's.

"What happened?" Jude asked, suddenly remembering. "Where is everyone?"

"Everyone is where they should be." Eunice reassured. Her wings fluffed more down as she retracted them, folding them neatly behind her back. She took Jude's hand, swinging it as she led her older sister away from the jetty. "Frank is with his wife. Happily showing her all the things he's learned to cook. Or...well...burn. And Shelley is in Paris. Probably lodged in between at least two handsome sailors. Pepper is with her freakshow family and Elsa, throwing knives at somebody probably. And Arden…"

"Arden?" Jude stopped them, seeing her cabin coming into view. "We defeated Arden? You took him?"

"I didn't take him, no." Eunice shook her head. "The shadows took him. Where he belongs." She winked, pointed down at the ground. "You know…"

"Yes, I know." Jude took a deep breath. "I was afraid it had all been some strange dream."

"That would have been a shitty dream."

"Eunice!"

"Angels can say whatever we want." She laughed, tugging them again toward the cabin. "You did a great job, Jude. You brought us all together. You led us to a victory. I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for you."

"We did it together." Jude reminded gently. She smiled. "But we damn well did it!" They laughed, hugging past the awkwardness of Eunice's giant wings.

But Jude stopped at the steps of her cabin, watching Eunice climb without her. The angel turned midway to the deck, noticing her companion malingered. "Sister?"

Jude bit her lip, stalling. "Eunice…"

"Hm?"

"What about...um...what about Timothy?" Her eyes watered, threatening to spill again.

"Timothy?" Eunice blinked. "Oh! Him."

Jude rolled her eyes. "Yes, him."

"Me." The word in her ear in his voice and his hands on her waist and his arms wrapping her from behind.

"Oh!" She whirled in his embrace, wrapping him tightly in her own. "Timothy!" And again the tears spilled freely. "God, I was so scared I wouldn't see you again."

"You promised me." He reminded her, nuzzling her shoulder. He pulled away enough to kiss her. "It would seem that _you_ are my peace, Jude." He glanced at her cabin, gestured about them. "And this is a paradise. Are you willing to share it with me?"

Jude clutched his grey oxford, trying to control her tears of happiness. "I can't fucking imagine being without you."

"Eternity is a long time." He offered.

"I think we earned it."

They turned at a little sniffle. Eunice had sat on the steps. She wiped tears from her cheeks with a wing corner. "You two…" she murmured.

"What happens now, Eunice?" Jude asked. Keeping Timothy close, she climbed to Eunice. "What now?"

Eunice shrugged. "I'm going to be...wandering for a while. I'm learning still. And I have a good teacher."

"Schachath?" Jude asked, nonplused.

Mary chuckled. "Exactly."

"Well, she clearly taught ya how to dress." Jude sobered. "Will I see you again, Eunice?"

"Oh, no doubt." She stood, dusting off her skirt. "We might have more work for you. Both of you."

"We're retired." Jude snapped.

Eunice chuckled. "Timothy?"

"Yes?"

"Take care of her."

"We shall care for each other." He assured, wrapping Jude again.

"I know you will." Eunice took their hands, bowing her head. The couple followed suit. When they felt the hands slip away, they raised their heads. The angel was gone.

"I know a real angel," Timothy said, wonder in his voice.

Jude laughed. "I always knew that girl would turn out alright." She kissed him. Kissed him again. "I'm yar peace, huh?"

"Indeed." He kissed her this time.

"Mmm." She broke away, tugging him up the steps. "Wanna get a piece?"

Grinning, he followed her. "Jude. You've spent far too much time with Shelley…"

They climbed the stairs together to Jude's porch. Their porch. Into their shared peace. Downy white feathers fluttered in their wake.


End file.
